Something Lost
by Awesome one
Summary: Emma is a farmers daughter who dreams of being a Knight someday. When she hears a story about the Queen disappearing and the King offering a reward for anyone who can bring his Queen back, Emma jumps on the chance. She goes to find the Queen and hopes in exchange for the Queen the King will grant her Knighthood. What Emma doesn't expect is to find love along the way.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Fear was not something she felt often. On normal circumstances she pushed it so deep within herself that it became nonexistent. Fear turned to pressured pain that filled up her dead heart and pushed hard against the fleshy walls. Fear was an unforgivable emotion because fear was equivalent to weakness. Weakness was not even a part of her vocabulary let alone something she put out. Fear however had a way of creeping back into her life, escaping the confines of her heart and dripping it oily life all over her insides until she was rattling and slick with it. Fear was something that seeped out of her in the night when everyone else slept. Fear had a face that wore a crown. A crown she was married too.

Her small body trembled beneath that heavy covers adorning the massive bed she lay in. This broken body of hers was trained by the beatings it took to know that now it should tremble. Soon it would take a beating from thick palms and hard knuckles and her little body was futile to stop it. Come morning new bruises would lie beneath her olive skin and mingle with older, yet still painfully present, marks. Marks left by a belligerent husband who sought out her body for his own needs and left her lying in the bed, trembling and bloody. Oh yes, this body feared while it waited for the pain that was going to envelop it very soon.

Footsteps echoed outside the door. Each foot fall sent her heart racing just a bit faster and her blood to turned to ice. The sudden chill within her bones only amplified her shaking and made her previous sweat a cold one. Her lips parted slightly for a breathless scream to escape. Her slender fingers clutched the duvet tighter to her bare chest. The wide, fear blown eyes set in her skull tripled in size as she watched the door. When the footsteps stilled and silence befell her ears, she slammed her eyes shut. She didn't want to see his entrance. She simply couldn't. Metal rings jingled. Poorly treated hinges screeched in protest. Wood slapped against stone wall. Then his footsteps reappeared and continued until they came to a stop beside her.

Her eyes cracked open to take in the form of the King towering above her. Though it was dark she could see the red tinge in cheeks that the heat of the alcohol swirling around his veins had left behind. Like his soul, his eyes were dark and hungry. His sloppy, greasy hair stuck out in every which way beneath the shimmering circlet of gold atop his proud head. He stared down at her over the bulge of his hooked nose, his chapped and unattractive lips pulled into a tight sneer. He reeked of what he drank and what he smoked. Even the scraggly patches of coarse hair growing from his jaw and above his lip held signs of his indulges, beads of ale still clinging to his whiskers and bits of tobacco colored spittle stuck in the finer hair below his lips. Everything about him disgusted her. She drew her eyes from him to the ground under his muddied boots. She saw herself as a proud, strong woman but this man alone held a power over her strong enough to turn her submissive. Perhaps it was the many beatings she had undergone in the 2 years she had spent tied to him through marriage.

"Undress me." His voice was rough like his touch and cold as her blood. She knew that in the dark he wouldn't see the scathing glare she sent him as her tiny act of defiance just before she slipped off the bed onto her knees before him. Quickly she unlaced his boots with her trembling fingers and pulled them from his stinking feet. They were thrown away without care, making a loud noise when they hit the floor some ways away. Loud noises like that bothered him and it was something she knew so she wasn't surprised when she felt him slap her hard on the backside of her head as punishment. The force of the hit sent her head forward and she bashed her nose against his knees. Immediately warm blood began to steadily trickle from her nostrils, dripping onto the King's bare feet. He grunted in annoyance, jumping back from the Queen bowed before him gripping her nose in silence.

"Now look at what you've done," He growled, gesturing to the drops of her blood staining the paleness of his royal feet, "You're useless! Get on the bed."

Dutifully she did as told. She kept her eyes closed because she didn't need them open to know he was undressing himself. And she didn't need her eyes open to know when he had climbed onto the bed with her and mounted her. She felt it when the bed dipped from his weight and she felt the hair of his legs rub against her thighs and hips. This was always the worst part. This was the reason her body trembled every night, this was the source of her fear. Sometimes he would be to busy running a kingdom to partake of her body or to drunk to get himself up. Those were the nights she wept with joy. Tonight was a night she would weep not of joy but of the pain that would follow his finishing, of the bruises that would grow and the knot in her stomach that would tighten. Tonight she would lay beneath him and be the wife he had in mind when he asked her mother for permission to take her daughter as his bride. Not a partner in the absence of his late wife but rather something for his cock to fit into.

His meaty hands gripped her thighs tightly and jerked them open, making room for himself to sit between on his knees. Still she held her eyes closed. If she kept them closed she wouldn't have to see him, only feel him. Feeling something was much easier for her to pretend wasn't happening. With her eyes closed she could whisk herself away and pretend she was an adolescent who rode horses under the protective eye of her father long past. She could feel the sun warming her face as she stood in her saddle, she could feel the leather reins pressed against her palms and the wide smile lighting up her young face. She wasn't here pinned beneath his girth while he grunted in her ear but rather there, with her beautiful steed and happily unmarried.

Only when he finished and rolled off her did she let her brown eyes flutter open. His sweaty arm still lay draped across her chest in a way that she was sure he meant as a way of keeping her in her place. Both literally and figuratively. She just stared at the ceiling while she listening to his heavy breathing, his each outtake fanning across her neck and ear in an unsettling way. She felt like she was suffocating from his heat and his closeness. There was a burning between her legs that was as familiar as it was vile, left behind by him as it always was when he took from her that which she didn't offer. The burn, his arm, his breath, this marriage, it was all to much for her and she was asphyxiating. She needed out from under him, she needed away. Her eyes stared at the ceiling as she listening and she waited for those heavy, heavy breaths washing over her to steady out. When he sounded as though he was asleep she carefully turned her head to inspect his face. Even in his sleep he looked like her personal hell.

Carefully she moved from under him and tip toed towards her wardrobe in search of clothes. She didn't even care enough to wear something nice of hers. Fine linins, silks, embroidered with hefty and expensive jewels with inseams of gold and silver. She may be a trapped and desolate Queen on the inside but on the outside she looked every bit royal with the most beautiful and believably fake smile there was to behold. Normally she took pride in what she wore because her outfits where her only joy but here, in the night, she was frantic. Her fingers found fabric and she hastily threw it on, coating her body in thick layers to stop out the cold winds. She draped an oiled cloak across her shoulders, clicking the metal latch across her shoulder as quietly as she could. With one last glance at her husband she drew the hood up across her deep brown hair and turned on her foot to slip through the still open door. Without a sound she disappeared from the castle and the King's lands. In the morning alarms would sound and the King would send out many of his men to collect his Queen only to come back empty handed. They wouldn't find her. A month would pass by before the King declared that if anyone could find his Queen and bring her back to him then he would grant them a place in his court and give them more gold than they could carry for their troubles. It would be some more time before someone stepped forth with his Queen in hand to claim that prize. And it would be to everyone's surprise that, instead of a King's man or a Knight from another land, it would be a blond headed farm girl that delivered him his Queen.

**Let me know if you liked it, there will be more to come. **


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sweat dripped down her spine and soaked into the thin cotton of her shirt as she worked. Her calloused hands gripped the pitch fork tighter as she jabbed into the pile of hay and hefted yet another heavy bit of hay into a horses stall. The grey mare stepped forward to chomp on the tasty dinner Emma had given it. She grinned and reached a free hand into the stall to pat the top of his head, between his ears. He was her father's horse, not one that was up for sale, but one that pulled their cart when they brought produce to the market for sale. He was an old horse but he was sturdy stuff and reliable. She gave him one last pat before going back to her chore of feeding the three other cart horses housed within the stable.

She jabbed at the hay like the pitchfork in her hands where a spear and the hay were an enemy. A devilish smirk pulled at her lips and she let out a vicious growl when the tongs of the tool sunk deep into the pile of hay and she raised it in the air. Someday she would hold a spear and someday she would vanquish foes just like that because someday, she would be a Knight. Not just any Knight, but the first female Knight and she'd be better than any man that ever walked this land. She was everything that made any Knight great. Foolhardy at times but she had a true heart. She hadn't exactly been out in the wide world enough to test her metal yet but someday she would. And she'd be great. She could feel it in her bones that she was destined for greatness.

She dumped the hay into the stall beside another cart horse, her mother's favored. This horse was a cream white with a splotch of brown on his nose. This one was the song of the grey mare, a stall over. She remembered being there when her mother birthed it. A messy and unpleasant experience she didn't attend again. Emma gave this horse a nice pat atop his head just like the other. Emma loved her work. She loved it because it was simple and it was taxing but she wanted more. More than what her parents gave her as farmers and sheep herders. She wanted a sword and a breastplate with her very own symbol of greatness etched into the metal. She wanted banners and songs made for her. She wanted to go out and be her own person, not work around a farm until her father found a man for her to marry.

She let out an annoyed sound as she stabbed at the hay another time. Just thinking of that bothered her beyond belief. They wanted a man to marry. Her father was a good man. David loved his wife and his child with all of his heart but sometimes the man could be so thick headed and dim. He, along with her mother Snow, had found what they considered a suitable suitor in the Thatcher's son. Neal was his name, son of Rumpelstiltskin. To them he was handsome, charming, with a nice shade of eyes and a pleasant ability to carry conversation. They had sent her on a few 'dates' with him so that she could get to know him. He was their prime candidate but not hers. Neither of them saw the crafty look in his eye when he swept his lustful gaze over her body or the way his twitchy fingers 'accidentally' picked up things from carts in the market and made its way into his pockets. He was a liar, a thief, and thought with the head between his legs instead of the one on his shoulders. She didn't like him. She felt that even if she were attracted to men the way a woman in her land should be, she wouldn't have chosen him.

That was the thing though, she wasn't attracted to men. She had never been for as long as she could remember. When girls that grew up around her started giggling over boys chests and their quirky ways of courting woman, Emma had been more interested in the curves of a woman's legs and her hips and the way she smiled when you flirted with her. According to the standard, this wasn't proper and it was, frankly, unethical. Emma was never one for ethics though. She's a country girl who dreams of being a Knight someday and marrying a beautiful woman. She didn't tell her parents because she didn't want to break their hearts. Yes they knew of her dreams to be something great but they didn't know that she wanted to take a bride, not to be one. Only her friends knew that. And they too had their own secrets they kept from society, just like Emma does.

The teen jabbed the pitchfork into the soil beneath her feet after she had finished feeding all the horses and let out a long breath. Today was hot, hotter than usual, and all this physical work Emma was doing was making her a sweaty, dehydrated mess. After her chores were over she was going to need a dip in the creek before Snow even let her near the dinner table. With her hands free she pulled her shirt from where it was tucked into her leather breeches. She lifted her shirt high so that the small draft running though the stables could hit her heated flesh. She began wiping the sweat from her face onto the hemline of her shirt when she was started by a wolf whistle from behind her. In the same movement she let her shirt drop; she pulled the pitchfork from the dirt and spun around to point it at who had whistled at her, more than ready to run them through.

She had expected it to be Neal. He had crept up on her when she was working more than once to whistle at her when she bent over or leer at her when she was empting buckets of feed into the pig's trough. If it had been Neal, she would have run him through but it wasn't Neal. She let the pitchfork fall from her grip and straightened up with a smile.

Leaned against the entryway of the stable was a tall, leggy brunette. Her hair fell around her shoulder in shiny ringlets, fanning across her endowed bosom barely held in by the corset she wore. There was definitely an ample amount of cleavage on show. The skirt attached to the corset top of her dress fanned around her and stopped at the ankles of her leather boots, keeping her modesty in check aside from the cleavage. She ran her fingers along the velvet hem of her red cloak tied around her shoulders, like it always was. Her ruby red lips pulled tight across white teeth, displaying a shining wide mouthed smile to match Emma's.

"Hey Red! Where's-" Emma's question for her best friend died on her lips when another body scurried into the stable, cradling Emma's birthday present to her chest. The second brunette was a head shorter than Red and just a few inches below Emma. Her curls shimmered brightly in the sun like her crystalline blue eyes did. She was dressed in a more modest dress, unlike her counterpart still languidly leaned against the wood, with the corset beneath the blue and white dress. She had a leather satchel slung across her shoulder, probably full of her tomes and novels she ate and drank like the finest of wines and meats. She gave a blinding smile to Red and held out the tawny kitten she had been clutching to her chest.

"Look Red! I found Prince! He was chasing field mice when I walked past. Isn't he cute?" Belle cooed and hugged Prince to her chest again when Red gave it a disapproving look.

"I hate cats." She mumbled, giving Emma a look like it was her fault that her parents had gotten her the kitten as a gift for her 20th birthday. Emma chuckled at the look of jealousy on Red's face as she watched Belle dote on the kitten.

"Belle." Said girl lifted her head to look at Emma stride over to her and enveloped her in a one armed hug, careful not to squish Prince between them. Behind them Red growled which garnered another chuckle from Emma before the blond turned to embrace Red as well.

"What brings you guys to my neck of the woods?" Emma questioned loud enough that they could still hear her when she went to pick up the pitchfork and stow it away where it belonged. When she finished she plopped down on the pile of hay centered in the stable and leaned back, laying the back of her head on her cupped hands and crossing her feet at her ankles. Belle came over to sit beside her and dumped Prince in Emma's lap before reclining in the hay beside her lifelong friend. The kitten padded up Emma's torso to curl into a ball above her beating heart, tucking her paws beneath him and wrapping her little tuff of a tail around himself. She raised her hand and laid it across his small body, feeling his every intake and outtake of breath. She was rather fond of the little thing.

"What? Can't we just come visit you?" Belle chirped in her heavy accident that originated from the country she was born in but hadn't been raised in.

"Yeah, we can't just come visit our best friend Emma?" Red came forward and plopped onto the ground near Belle's feet, the skirt of her dress billowing out in a ring around her. She narrowed her eyes at the kitten sleeping on Emma's chest before sniffing in a haughty manor and looking away from it. Belle and Emma shared a smile over Red's antics.

"No," Emma gave them both a look as she ran her fingertips through Prince's soft fur, "Not unless you both want something or are here to complain but you usually only complain when it's just one of you because you always complain about each other."

They both looked affronted with deep blushes and avoided eye contact with the other. These were two of her closest friends who knew that Emma had a fondness for woman as opposed to men because they too had a fondness for woman. More precisely they had a fondness for one another. They had been slow going to get together what with Red insisting that it was too dangerous for Belle to be with Red due to Red's werewolf side that came out during the full moon. Eventually Belle had told Red that they were together and Red didn't have a choice in the matter. Emma had found it both amusing and exhausting. She wanted her friends happy but they could really be obnoxious sometimes. Like when they were fighting and they came to talk her ear off about how stupid the other one was being while she did her chores.

"We just came to visit this time Ems. We know how lonely you get working around here all by yourself. Especially now, with Neal lurking around and all." Belle mumbled as she began rummaging around in her satchel for a book to read.

"Okay. What's been happening then? How are you two? How is everyone else?"

Red lifted her head with a grin, looking up at her girlfriend with shinning eyes, "Belle and I are fine. We're thinking of moving into together. We picked a place in the woods and everything. All I have to do is build it. Isn't that great?"

"Hey that is great news! If you need help just let me know okay?" Emma gave Red a goofy smile that was mirrored on the werewolf's face.

"Yeah that'd be great Ems. Mulan offered to help too. With the three of us we'll get it done in no time."

Emma nodded like she had expected this. Mulan was another of Emma's friends. The four of them had been friends since childhood. Emma and Mulan had bonded instantly over their shared love of battle and glory to be had. They spent hours wildling sticks to a point and sparring until their sticks broke and they had to repeat the process. They had met by accident one day when Emma was taking her time walking home from lessons in the city. Mulan had been sitting to the side of the side with a dog twice her size, glowering at the horizon. The dog had barked at Emma and Mulan had sprung to her feet and threw a rock at Emma that had dented the young blonds head. When she had woke up Mulan had apologized profusely for giving Emma a nasty gash and explained that the dog was her father's attack dog that only barked when it felt threatened or spotted someone it liked. Mulan decided to walk Emma home and, upon showing up at home with another child, Snow had hurried the raven haired girl into the house and fed her until she fell asleep. Her parents had died before their time and Mulan had been orphaned so Snow insisted she visit often after the girl refused to live with them.

It was on one of her visits that two had come across Red. They had been running around in the thick woods near Emma's home, throwing pinecones at one another, when Emma had quite literally tripped over Red. The brunette had been curled up on the forest floor, sleeping with her head cradled in the crook of her arm with her red cape draped across her body like a blanket. She had seem startled when Emma had woken her up but not unfriendly if the beaming smile she had given the two other girls was any indication. Children have like minds, inquisitive as always, so Red wasn't afraid when Emma and Mulan had plopped onto the ground in front of her and asked why she was napping in the woods. With expressive hand gestures Red had explained that she had spent the most of her night as a wolf then woke up here instead of near her Granny's cottage, she had been far too tired for the trek back. Mulan and Emma had been fascinated and insisted she come back and have dinner with Emma's family. Snow had been beyond pleased to have yet another child to coddle and feed.

They didn't run across Belle until they were in their preteens. The three girls had begged David and Snow to let them go to the market place on their own and after some very convincing puppy eyes, the adults had relented. Mulan and Emma had been distracted by sword jugglers while Red skipped around looking at all the fascinating things from other lands. One particular caravan held her peeked her interest enough that she had actually stopped skipping altogether to stand in the street and stare. Gypsies in colorful dresses sat behind a long wooden table that was laden with thick books bound with gold flax, glass daggers, and different colored powders that gave of powerful scents. Red had been so engrossed with the magical items she hadn't even noticed the smaller brunette that had come up beside her until Red turned to leave and ran right into the girl. The books that had been in the girls arms had tumbled to the ground, skittering across the dirt into a pile of horse dung at the edge of the road. Red had felt so mortified she had blushed a brighter red than her cape and had, without a word, grabbed the girl by her wrist and drug her to Emma and Mulan. The brunette insisted they pool their coins together so they could buy the girl a new book because Red was such a ditz. Belle, after introducing herself, waved it off with a shy smile but the three girls had been persistent until Belle caved. After purchasing Belle one of the gypsy books that Red had been enamored with, Emma had invited Belle home to have supper with them. Snow had immediately pulled Belle into a hug, gave her a bowl of hot soup with rye bread, and sat the girl down to tell her story after story. David had just shook his head with a fond smile at his daughters strange ability to find stray children to bring home and let Snow dote on. They never needed to bother having more children, Emma brought them home by the dozen.

The girls had been fairly inseparable after that. Belle visited the most out of all of them since she loved listening to Snow tell her stories of Snow's wild youth and she lived the closest. Red still lived with her Granny when she wasn't frequenting the forest as a wolf or sneaking sweets from Snow's pantry. Mulan lived to far away now to visit often. She came maybe once every other month since she had moved away to join the military of her homeland. In truth Emma missed her but she felt better when Red or Belle could see her.

"Actually we did have something we wanted to tell you Emma." Belle nudged Emma's side, disrupting her musings of the past and bringing her back to the present. She tilted her head in a lazy fashion, the corner of her moth pulling into a smirk and nodded her ascent for Belle to continue.

"Well," Belle tucked rouge curl behind her ear and flashing Red a look, "Red and I figured out how you can become a Knight. Red thinks it's a great idea but Emma, please, I don't want you to do it. It's so dangerous."

Emma's eyes widened and she up so fast her back gave a twinge. Prince gave a little mewl for being handled so roughly, hopping from her lap to Belle's.

Danger was the least of her concern when Knighthood was on the line. She had hardly even considered Belle's concern or the pleading look she was sending Emma. Thoughts were swimming around her skull and drowning out the logical things in life. If there was any way for Emma to be a knight that was truly all that mattered to her. Her safety? That was a hazard of the job anyway so what was a little danger?

"How?" She whispered the words with an eager reverence, quietly enough Belle couldn't have heard her but Red did. The brunette ran her fingers along her cloak, the way she had always done when she was nervous or anxious. Her eyes cut to Belle, asking silent permission to tell Emma without getting in trouble. Belle sighed sadly but nodded. In an instant Red perked up like a pleased puppy and Emma was sure if Red had a tail it would be wagging.

"So you've heard about the Queen right Ems?"

Emma's brows furrowed low over her eyes as she fought to recall anything she could about the King's wife. She could barely remember how her father had come home in a rage after visiting the market a year or more ago. He had grumbled a story he had heard to them about how King Leopold had taken a young woman as a bride, a woman not much older than Emma. Then, as he had hung his boots and wool coats above the fire to dry, he had shaken his head and voiced how despicable he found the King for doing something like that. The only other thing Emma had heard of the Queen was that her beauty was beyond compare. Some stories she heard was that the Queen was the fairest in all the lands, others said the woman was like the incarnation of magic itself she was so perfect. Though she had heard a lot, Emma had never actually seen the Queen. The King she had seen many times in the parades that her parents dragged her to but Leopold always kept his wife within a carriage so that none could enjoy her beauty but himself. Emma could remember being a little disappointed, she had wanted to see why this Queen was considered the fairest of all.

"No Red. What about her?" Emma slipped onto the ground in front of Red so that she could have her full attention on the woman.

"Okay so about a month ago the Queen disappeared-" Emma gasped, interrupting Red midway through.

"Was she kidnapped!? Was it Georges men!? Mom told me he's been-" Belle thumped the back of Emma's head, lightly, to shush her. Red shot her lover a thankful smile before continuing.

"No Emma hush. Don't interrupt. So anyway the Queen disappeared. No one knows why or even what happened. The King just woke up and she was gone. Apparently he sent out lots of his guys to look for her but none of them found her right? Well then, a couple days ago, he made an announcement. He said that for anyone that could find the Queen and bring her back could have whatever they wished of him. A place in his court, all the gold they could carry, some crown jewels." By the time Red finished she was practically bouncing with excitement but Emma just stared at her blankly.

"I don't get how that has to do with me and being a knight." Both brunettes gave Emma a pointed look, willing her to catch on. When Emma continued to glare back at them both, Belle heaved a great sigh.

"If you can find the Queen and bring her back to the King, Emma, you can ask for him to grant you Knighthood. Since only a King or Queen can, this is your best chance." Slowly it sank in. She shot to her feet with a huge grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet in her excitement.

"If I do this I can be a knight!"

Red jumped up with her and took her hands, bouncing in tandem with Emma, "Yeah! Then you can be Knight Emma! You'd be and honest to gods Dame of the Summerland. We'd have to call you Lady Emma."

Emma nodded enthusiastically, "I like the sound of that. I'm gonna look like such a badass in all my armor. Mulan is gonna be so jealous." The blonde tilted her lips into a smug grin that Red giggled at. Behind them Belle cleared her throat pointedly. Two sets of eyes turned to see her giving them both a glare while she methodically drug her fingers through Prince's fur, his happy purring reverberating through the stable.

"Emma. It's not going to be that simple. It's could be beyond dangerous. No one has seen her. You could walk through the lands for the rest of your life and never find her. And what if she's in Dragon Land? What then? Or the Enchanted Forest? Through Witch Territory? You have no training Emma. You can't defend yourself properly. I don't like it." Belle sniffed and tilted her chin up in defiance, giving both woman a look that dared them to defy her logic. Red wilted under the look, giving her girlfriend a nod of agreeance but Emma wasn't so easily swayed. She moved to kneel in front of her friend, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on Belle's small shoulder. The brunette refused to meet Emma's eye, much to the blonde's amusement.

"Belle," Nothing," Belle look at me," She huffed and flicked her eyes to Emma's face briefly, "Belle."

"No."

"Belle c'mon."

"No. Because I know if I look at you then your going to give me this long winded rant about how you need to do this and I'll agree because you're my best friend and I want whats best for you. But if I agree to this crazy idea then I know your going to go and get yourself killed like an idiot." Emma chuckled lightly and squeezed Belle shoulder lightly before standing up and stretching out her back. Red moved around her to sit beside her lover, laying her arm around Belle's shoulders and pecking her cheek.

"Well I'm gonna go whether you approve or not. You know that right?"

Belle huffed, "Yes."

Emma nodded and began rubbing her stomach, "Good. You guys hungry? I'm sure Mom has something cooked up by now. Let's go get something to eat."

The trio made their way towards the homey cottage nestled between the edge of the forest and a wide green pasture that was home to many different kinds of animals and growing vegetables. The wood it was made of was old but sturdy as the day David had built it for his pregnant, glowing bride. It was two stories with white furs draped over the windows, a grey bedrock chimney hugged the side of it and spewed a near white smoke at all hours of the day. Warmth always emanated from the home, even from the outside, despite its cheap insulating. The Charming family was by no means a rich one but what they lacked in wealth they made up for in good heart and kind company.

Emma kicked the door open with her boot and stumbled inside, tripping over the small dip in the wood of the archway. Hands gripped her elbows and pulled her upright before she could try to eat the entry rug. She turned to give her friends a grateful smile.

Spices lingered in the air, warm ones and exotic ones for the foreign foods Snow sometimes cooked. A small sized cauldron was bubbling above the coals glowing in the hearth, some thick white broth that had chunks of golden meats and vegetables bobbing in it. A plethora of furs varying from tawny tiger to black bear and snow colored goat lay across the wooden flooring as carpet and the blacks of chairs for cushion. Near the backside of the room was a couple of mismatched sofas, afghans laying over the backs that matched the throw pillows. On the right was the dining table, chairs sat around it, and the staircase leading up the bedrooms behind it.

Snow sat on her knees beside the hearth, a long wooden spoon held to her lips as she tasted the soup she was creating. Her long black hair was still as shiny as it was in her youth though now there were a few grey hairs to be seen if one looked real hard. The blackness of her hair contracted with the white of her dress, cinched around her trim waist with a leather belt. She was barefoot as she usually was, something that always made her husband smile because he knew she went without just to spite him. She turned her smiling eyes to the woman standing in her doorway, spoon still caught between her lips, and hummed a hello around it.

Creaks and thuds rang above them until they faded and David appeared near the dinning table, having come down the stairs with stack of clay plates in his hands. Small crinkles appeared at the corner of his lips and his eyes when he smiled at his child and his adopted children. The beard that wrapped around his mouth and moved up his jaw into his salt and pepper hair did well to help him appear younger than he was. Not that he needed it, he was still handsome as ever. His shoulders were still broad and held high, his back and chest still lined with tight muscle developed from years of toiling in the fields.

"Hello girls. Just in time, as always." He smiled pleasantly, shooting a wink at his daughter who grinned. Red shot forward to help him set the table, taking the cups he had balances atop the plates before he dropped them and broke them. Belle went to Snow and tried to hug the woman but had a spoon full of soup pushed between her lips before she could. Emma rolled her eyes and let Prince pad into the house before she shut the door, looping the latch through the toggle on the doorframe.

" 's good…Sno'" Belle murmured around the spoon in her mouth. Snow gave a happy hum and stood from her knees, pressing her palm against the clay hearth to steady herself. Once on her feet she held her arms open for Emma to rush into, which the blonde did with only a small roll of her eyes.

"Finish your chores honey?" She ran her bright eyes over Emma's face, reaching up to pat some of her hair down in a motherly way.

"Yes mother." Emma groaned. She pulled the spoon out of Belle's mouth to dip it into the stew. She blew onto the hot liquid before taking a small sip. A slight sound slipped from her lips, her chest vibrating from it.

"It's good Mom."

" 'Course it is. I made it. Belle! It's so good to see you! It's been ages. C'mere." Snow pulled the brunette off the floor into Snow's warm arms, ignoring the way her husband and Red were chuckling at her antics in the background.

"Careful dear, you might smother the poor thing." David mused, earning a louder giggle from Red and Emma's authentic chuckle. Snow rolled her eyes and held Belle's face between her hands, smiling warmly as always.

"I'm not smothering you am I?"

Belle cracked a small smile and shook her head, "Only a little."

"Good that's how I like my children, only a little smothered." Snow patted Belle's cheek before turning on her heals and disappearing through the pantry door to the left of the hearth. Belle laughed her tingling laugh and shook her head. Red sent her a secret smile and motioned for her to come help. She obliged, stepping over Prince to take the remaining plates from David's hands.

Emma stuck the spoon back into the stew and held it aloft with her free hand below it to catch drops, "Pops! Come try it. Mom outdid herself. What's in this?"

"Mutton I think. Maybe venison. I wasn't really paying attention when she was cutting the meats up," David stepped around the two brunettes to stride over to his daughter and taste the liquid pooled in the dip of the spoon, "Yup. That's why I married your mother. Good cooking. Best cooking."

"That better not be the only reason you married me or we may have to rethink this whole arrangement." Snow reappeared, a round of bread cradled under her arm and a plate of aged cheeses and seasoned butter in her hands. David laughed his deep laughed that rose from his belly and grew until it came from his mouth in a low, joy filled sound that filled a room. Emma rolled her eyes at her parents banter but smiled none the less and stepped forward to take the plate from her mother before she dropped the bread or the plate both. Snow sauntered over and looped an arm around her husbands middle, bumping her hip against his playfully.

"Thank you Emma." The blonde whisked it over to place it in the center of the table, careful not to mess up Belle's and Red's neat arrangement of the plates.

"Aren't you four down a man?" David asked after he had eyed the three girls moving around the table until they found their preferred seats, "Where is Mulan?"

Snow hummed in agreement, "That one hasn't come around in months. You tell her that next I see her I'm going to give her a stern talking too. Whatever has her that busy can't be that important."

Red made a noncommittal sound as she spread creamy butter over a chunk of bread and handed it off to Belle, "She's doing her warrior training stuff. Last time I took her a basket of lunch she was covered in welts from getting beat up with those wooden training sticks. But of course she was grinning like a fool. She said she'd be down in a month or so. She told me to tell you she misses your cooking Snow-this bread is so _good!_" Red's eyes fluttered shut as she nibbled on her buttered chunk of bread.

While Red had been speaking Belle had leaned over to whisper beside Emma's ear, "She also told Red that she had met a girl. Some princess type. Aurora. Go figure right?"

Emma hid her snicker behind her hand and whispered back, "She would go for the princess type. That way she could do the whole sweep-her-off-her-feet bit. Bet she felt all tough and macho. I bet she even gave Mulan a handkerchief as a token of her gratitude!"

Belle wasn't so apt at hiding her amusement, her giggles filling the room and drawing the attention of everyone else. When she finally noticed she was being watched the tips of her ears reddened to match her cheeks and her grin turned sheepish. Red raised an eyebrow as she munched on her bread and now some aged cheddar.

Snow came to the table to dust a bit of crumbs from her cheek before taking a seat beside the werewolf. David following after, both his arms laden with bowls of stew. He carefully deposited each bowl in front of the ladies at the table without spilling a drop before finally taking a seat himself. He was grinning proudly at his actions.

"You should have been a housewife Pops." Emma teased, watching as her father jut out his bottom lip and slumped in his seat a bit.

"Yeah or you know, a bar wench." Red nodded along, not taking her eyes off her meal. Belle giggled behind mug of ale she sipped from.

Snow reached over to pat her husbands leg, smiling at their jibes, "Don't listen to them David. Your all man."

David grunted and scooped his bowl up to sip straight from it instead of using his utensils. Snow rolled her eyes at him but smiled despite his lack of manors. She purposefully made a show of dipping her spoon into her stew and bringing it to her lips, wiggling the wooden spoon after she pulled it from her lips. Emma nodded along and dropped her spoon to drink straight from the bowl like her father. David noticed and raised his bowl in salute. Emma reached across the table to tap the brim of her bowl against his before they both brought them clay back to their lips for another gulp of stew.

"Oh good lord, I live with a bunch of animals." Snow shook her head at her family and gave Belle and Red an apologetic look that they laughed at.

"So," David said after he had set his empty bowl down reached across the table for some bread and cheese he set on his plate, "What's new with you guys?"

"Well," Belle began, shooting Red a lovely smile that Red blushed upon seeing, "I got a job in the city. I'll be looking after the archives. Cleaning the maps and the tomes, repairing any damaged books and such. I'm getting paid 5 shillings a day for it. Can you believe it?"

"Wow Belle that's incredible! Congratulations! You make more than I do at market on my good days." David smiled, reaching across the table to pat Belle's forearm. The small brunette blushed with pride, raising her shoulders and straightening her posture. Snow smiled warmly and nodded approvingly.

"I go to visit her at work when I'm not helping Granny with her inn. That's actually where I caught news of the Queen." Red added, smiling a small smile because of Belle's obvious pride in herself.

Snow furrowed her brows, her spoon held in pose halfway to her lips, "The Queen?"

"Yeah," Emma cut in, bobbing her head in accordance, "She disappeared and now the King has this huge reward for anyone who can find her. Red and Belle already told me."

David let out a whistle, his eyebrows held up in surprise, "Well. Isn't that something? Maybe the poor thing up and ran away from the bastard."

"David! That's our King!" Snow hissed, her eyes darting the window like she expected royal guards to bust through them and seize her husband for his disrespectful tongue.

David shrugged and leaned back in his chair, cupping his hands behind his head, "Yeah well, our King is a bastard and you know it."

"Nevertheless." Snow trailed off, casting one last glance at the windows before going back to her stew. Emma eyed her parents, wondering if now was a good time to tell them she planned to be the one to find the Queen and claim the reward. She couldn't imagine how they would react. She only had guesses and none of them were in the positive. She loved her parents and she knew they loved her but she knew how protective they were and she knew that they wouldn't want her off gallivanting around the world looking for a lost queen.

"Mom, Pops," David and Snow turned to their daughter, expressions ones of curiosity and Emma knew she had to tell them now or it would be never, "I wanna find the Queen. That way I can claim the reward and the King can make me a Knight. Like I dreamed about remember? You said you supported me and you'd love me no matter what. So please may I? Go I mean."

Belle and Red wisely remained quiet, not even daring to lift a spoon in case it made a sound and interrupted the moment between parent and child. Snow's head shot up, her eyes wide and her mouth hung ajar. Her hand that clutched her spoon began to rattle slightly with sudden nerves and she began blinking excessively like she was trying to see something that wasn't there. David slowly lowered his hands from behind his head and sat forward in his chair, his brows lowered over his eyes like Emma's did when she was thinking hard.

"Wha…Emma what?" Snow barely managed to choke out. Her hand rose to touch her throat lightly, fingertips resting against her jugular, while her other rattling hand tried to grip her mug so she could take large gulps of her ale to soothe her suddenly tight throat.

"I wanna be a Knight Mom. It's my dream. You know that. And this is my only real chance to make that dream come true. We both know that there isn't fairy godmothers for farmers daughters," Emma reached across the table to lay a hand atop her fathers when he dropped his head, dejected, at the comment, "Not that there is anything wrong with farmers daughters Pops. Or farmers for that matter. We're a strong, kickass lot, we are."

David gave her a grim smile that quickly morphed into his thinking face again. He reached his hand up to wipe at the invisible dirt caking his cheeks and rubbed at the non existing grit in his eyes with the pads of his fingers, trying to rub away the stress but failing. He cupped his jaw in thought and shook his head slowly.

"Emma," He began slow, trying his best not to wound his daughters pride nor her feelings, "Emma, do you realize what your asking? What your saying?"

Emma let out a ragged sigh, rubbing her palm hard into the nape of her neck nervously, and cast a glance at Red and Belle for comfort. They sent her tiny smiles of confidence, Red even giving her a discreet thumbs up. She gave a small nod before turning back to her bewildered parents.

"Yeah I do Pops. I know it's dangerous and I know I could be gone for a while looking and I know I could get hurt but…its what I want. I want to do what I love. I want to be something I can be proud of, not just something I know you'll be proud of. Can you understand?" Her eyes grew wider, pleading and hope filling her bright irises. Snow seemed wounded by the look and had to turn her head away, jaw tight and eyes clenched shut. David sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose.

"Emma," Snow's voice was soft but reaching, workings its way past Emma's flesh and sinking to the depth of her heart like hot iron, "My baby girl…of course we understand. We're your parents. We love you like no one else. I held you within me for nine months of your life and then we built you from babe to what you are today. A strong, beautiful woman that makes us proud of her every day. We want only the very best for you so of course we understand and of course we want you to fulfill your dreams. All of them. But darling…this…I can't agree to this. It's just to dangerous. I could loose you in the blink of an eye and never know it because there will be no one to find…find your body. How would we know? And if by chance you did live, how long would you be gone? You couldn't even know. We may be old and gray, on our death beads before you return to us. I can't my girl, I just can't. I'm so sorry." Snow's voice cracked with emotion, tears filling her eyes. Emma stared into them for a moment before rounding them on her father, hoping that he would veto Snow and give her the permissions he sought.

David stared back at his daughter, sorrow making him look so much older than Emma had ever seen him, "I'm sorry Emma but I have to agree with your mother on this. No. I'm sorry, I am, but no."

For a moment, Emma sat there stunned into silence. She just couldn't believe it. She had suspected it, even pictured it going this way in her head, but having it actually happen was more than she was prepared for. Betrayal ran through her bloods like a hot poison and it wounded her deep, setting her insides on fire. Warm pressure built between her tear ducts until it released itself in the form of salty tears that rolled down her cheeks. Slowly she rose from her seat and turned in silence to trudge up the stairs. Her parents called her name but their voices sounded as if they were under water. Her feet carried her to her room and she fell atop her bed, shaking with silent sobs.

Some time passed, she wasn't sure how long, before warm hands touched her back and began raking through her hair. Her head was picked up and placed in the lap of the hands running through her hair. Soothing circles were being rubbed into her back muscles but they felt like lead, heavy and hurtful.

"Ems…" Red's voice.

"Emma…" Belle's voice.

She cracked her eyes open to see that her head was in Belle's lap and, if she tilted her head, she could see Red sitting beside her feet with her hand on Emma's back.

"They said no…" She whispered in a hoarse voice. Red nodded sadly, patting the middle of Emma's back sympathetically. Belle hummed quietly, scraping her nails lightly against Emma's scalp in a soothing manor that would usually make Emma sleepy enough to forget her troubles but not tonight.

She sat up between the two of them, resting her elbows on her knees and staring at the set of drawers parallel to her bed, "You both know I'm going to go anyway…"

Belle sighed beside her, scooting over to lean her head on Emma's shoulder, "Yeah."

Red slipped her hand into Emma's and squeezed it gently, "That's why we packed you some travel food after your parents went to bed for the night."

Emma snapped her head towards Red in shock, her eyes wide, "What?"

Red stood from the bed to cross the room and grab a canvas pack off the floor and bring it over to the bed. Belle stood too, crossing the room to where Red had been previously and grabbed a rolled up sleeping matt from the floor to set it beside the pack.

"We packed enough food for a week but you should stop by the market for more. Maybe try to dig up some information while your there. Belle and I packed in all of our extra money for you so you won't have to worry. Maybe bring your savings too. It would be safer." Red spoke as she tightened straps on the back, adjusting them to Emma's size.

Belle pulled her leather satchel from her shoulder and laid it on the bed so she could help Red strap the sleeping roll to the pack, "We packed you some winter clothes for when you get in colder areas. As well as some soap, try to bathe Emma honestly. If you walk around stinking of death, you'll make the worst impressions and I don't want to say _that _person is _my_ friend."

Red finished strapping the roll to the pack and lifted it into the air and gave it a few hard shakes to make it stayed in place, pleased when it did, "There is a tool kit in here, you know the one Mulan gave you, to sharpen the dagger we packed. And a couple sticks of flint. Basic stuff. I packed my cape in here," Red ran her fingers across the tan canvas longingly, a fond smile on her face, "It's warm Emma. More warm than you can imagine a cape being. It is magic after all. I want you to have it if you get caught in a blizzard or fall in an ice lake or something. It may safe you from death. Don't argue and don't worry. I can handle the wolf, I only wear it because it makes Gran feel safer knowing I'm safe from hunters. And I won't need it if Belle is there to keep an eye on me. She'll just have to stick close in case hunters do spot me. She can chase them off with a stick." Red gave her lover a warm smile that Belle returned, reaching out to weave their fingers together.

"And," Belle tore her eyes from Red to fix them on Emma, who was still sitting there in shock with tears in her eyes, "I want you to take my satchel. I picked some books before Red and I came here that I thought might help you on your travels. You know, basic stuff. Books on plants so you won't eat a poisonous berry because you'd be stupid enough to do something like that. Some are on creatures, which to avoid, which can be helpful. There is the one that you guys bought me, the one from the gypsies. That one is full of magical stuff, which poisons will do what, what herbs have a natural magic in them to heal you. Consider it my tribute to this crazy idea. Maybe if you have it, you might manage to survive."

Then the couple went silent, waiting for Emma to say something. They stood patiently waiting, hands linked, with their eyes on Emma. She looked at the pack they had made for her, Belle's satchel, and Red's cape tucked safely inside. She flipped the top open to reach inside, her fingers curled around soft velvet and she yanked it out. Crimson red with darker swirls running through it. She ran her palm across it in reverence and awe, tears dripping from her chin onto the cloak.

"I don't know what to say….thank you. Both of you. For supporting me and…I can't even…I don't even know how to thank you for this." Emma reached her hand over to rest it atop Belle's satchel, her fingers toying with the copper buckles. A pale hand settled atop hers, then another atop that hand. She followed the arms to the owners, both woman smiling at her.

"You don't have to Ems cause we're your friends, practically your family and we love you. Just go and get that Queen and we don't want to see your face again until you come back as Lady Swan, the first female knight of the Summerland. Okay?"

Emma gave them a watery smile and nodded, "Okay. Help me get this stuff on?" She held up the cape with one hand and motioned to the bags with another. The couple gave a nod. Red pulled Emma to her feet while Belle got things ready. Red took the cloak and Belle put the strap of her satchel over Emma's neck so that it hung by her hip. Belle picked the pack up and handed it to Red who walked around Emma to slip the straps over Emma's shoulders. Lastly Red threw her cloak around Emma's shoulders, tying the leather straps across her sternum and adjusting the hood over her head, tucking her hair back behind the hem. They both stepped back to smile at Emma, their hands seeking one another out.

"How do I look? Ready to find a Queen?" Emma gave a shy smile.

Belle nodded, "You look dashing."

Emma nodded, running her palms down the front of the cloak and along the silken insides, "I'm a little nervous. You'll tell my parents I love them and I'm sorry right?"

"Of course Emma."

Emma nodded and took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Her eyes shifted to the doorway.

"Well this is it guys…wish me luck?"

Red smiled softly, "You don't need it Ems. You've got this."

Emma grinned, looking back at her two best friends in the world and wishing Mulan were here to see her now, "Your damn right. I'll see you guys in a month tops. As Lady Emma. Knight in shining fucking armor."

**Well that's Emma's grand beginning. There is much more to come. Tell me what you think, if you liked it if you hated it. Now I know I gave Belle, Red, and Mulan pretty main parts in the story but they only really show up in the beginning and they make an important part of the ending. Also I know you were all probably expecting Swan Queen right off the bat but you'll have to be patient. I'll make it worth your while I promise. Also to anyone who is distressed that Henry isn't in the story, you needn't worry. He'll make his debut very soon. He has an important role to play. **


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun had barely risen into the sky by the time Emma had reached the city limits. The dirt beneath her feet turned into cobble and building began to rise on either side of her. They were washed out browns with loose shingle roofs, just barely reaching past 4 stories. Occupants slept inside, their windows dark, and the streets quiet. Emma passed only a handful of ventures setting their carts up this early. She gave them a polite wave but didn't stop to talk to them.

Her legs were tired and her feet were sore from being in her work boots for such a long time but she pushed on. She had a plan that she had formed on her way here. Firstly she knew she had to hurry just in case her parents came to collect her, thinking they could catch her in the city. She had maybe 3 hours before her parents woke up. She'd use those 3 hours to walk around the market and listen to gossip, see if there was any news of the Queen. After she spent enough time wandering around there, she was sure she could get enough information to get some kind of destination in mind. She'd need to purchase a few things anyway like map of all the kingdoms and territories, and a compass. She had never traveled before aside from the one and only time she had rode with her Pop's to the Winterland, King George's kingdom, where David had sold special ordered skins. Her father had taught her how to work a compass with a map so that she wouldn't get lost and, even without a compass, he had taught her how to read the stars just in case. She preferred the compass but if she couldn't find one today at market, she was sure she could make due.

She reached the town center where most trading and buying occurred. The square was large and oval shaped with an ornate fountain centered in the middle of it. Coins shimmered beneath the shallow water that trickled steadily from the spouts within the tipped jugs angels held. Leopold's late wife, the first queen, had the fountain carved and placed there to resemble some kind of balance between her people and the royal family but Emma had never liked it. It was gaudy and obnoxious, and since the first queen had died, Leopold never commissioned anyone to keep it up. Cracks had begun to form within the marble faces and sternums of the four angels, standing back to back, and black webbing had begun growing within their wings and was steadily making its way down their backs to curl around their calves. The angels looked demented but no one dared speak against it less the guards overhear and beat them for speaking poorly of their King. Now the fountain was more of a commodity that foreigners hoping to make a good sell within Leopold's land threw coins into because it was said if you threw a coin within it, then you were blessed with good fortune. Emma could use all the fortune the gods had to offer. She threw in one shiny pence after giving it a kiss for luck and prayed to the gods that they bless her in her endeavors. Then she turned and sat on the lip of the fountains basin and waited.

The ache in her feet was grateful for the time she spent sitting there, waiting, until the ache dulled into an almost nonexistent throb. People began filling the square, setting up carts and shop to display their wares. The workers of the town stumbled around yawning with flushed faces from the bitter cold that blanketed the world before the sun rose to warm it. Children began kicking around balls and playing on maypoles as elders sat from a distance to keep careful watch. Wagons began pulling in, circling the oval town center, with their drivers piling out. Dwarves came to sell their mined ore to smiths. Gypsies came with their harvest of herbs and powders for witches to buy for brews. Emma had always favored the foreign warriors that came to sell their teachings to anyone willing to pay for lessons. If she asked them, they would always tell her glorious stories of their adventures. She and Belle would sit for hours to hear what they had to say.

Finally the square was buzzing with excitement and the sun had breached the horizon, golden rays of warmth splashing across the lands. Now she had her chance. She rose to her feet, wincing slightly at the pain that shot up her leg from the arch of her foot, and glanced around. She couldn't decide where she wanted to go first. The dwarves were always a talkative lot, but that was mostly attributed to the fact that their tongues were constantly loosened by the heavy mead they drank from sun up to sun down. Gypsies were never as forthcoming with knowledge but if you could get them to talk, you could always count on what they said as being the truth unlike drunken ramblings from a dwarf. Men from Winterland were as harsh as the cold of their home, usually biting at you if you tried to enable a conversation with them outside of bartering. Wanders that frequented the market liked to talk but half of what they said made little sense if you could manage to discern it from their fast rambling.

She just decided to walk around with her ears perked to any and all conversations that people were having. If she heard something that sounded promising she would stand near them and act as if she were checking out wares or adjusting her wardrobe. Eavesdropping got her little results other than learning that people liked to talk about the most ridiculous things in public. The sun was rising higher and she was losing her patience when she finally stumbling upon two guards talking about the queen. Specifically one guard, one with the purple cape of the Queen's special guard clipped to his pauldrons, was telling his comrade how he planned to go after the Queen so he could claim the reward for himself. Emma leaned against stonewall the guards were standing near to listen in on them without their notice. The Queen's guard spoke low so it was hard for her to catch all of what he said, but what he did say spiked Emma's interest. He spoke of a journal he had found in the Queen's personal chambers that the Queen had written in herself. He even pulled it from under his breastplate to show to his wide eyed comrade. The journal was a small one with deep lavender canvas covering and a sturdy spine but the trouble was the heart shaped lock made of black iron keeping the insides closed off to any who didn't possess the key. The Queen's guard told his comrade how he had tried everything to pick the lock but he hadn't succeeded. His last idea was to take it to a smith and have it cut off and he planned to try that today after he went to the tavern for a few drinks. His comrade had slapped him on the back and wished him luck before they parted. The keep guard had gone one way and the Queen's guard another. Emma had followed.

He went into the tavern for his drinks and Emma had sat outside on the side of the cobblestone road while she waited for him. That journal was her only chance. If the Queen wrote something in it just before her disappearance then perhaps she could use it to locate the missing Queen. Problem was, a trained soldier had it tucked under his breastplate and Emma wasn't trained enough to take him on in a fight for it. She couldn't just ask for it either. Thankfully being around Neal for the time that she had, she had picked a few of his tactics. Like how to pickpocket without the victim noticing.

Loud bouts of drunken laughter boomed behind her that Emma recognized as the guard instantly. She listened as his footsteps neared and stood when they were just besides her, turning into his body on purpose. They crashed together and would have fallen over if he hadn't grabbed her shoulders to steady himself. She made it seem like she was planting her hand on his chest to steady herself as well but really she was using it to distract him while she used her other hand to snake it under his breastplate and retrieve the journal. Quickly she yanked it out and stashed it in-between the bedroll and the pack strapped then returned her hand to his chest.

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry! I'm such a klutz." Emma stammered out, shinning her big, apologetic eyes at him. He looked her over with a frown before it slowly melted into a sleazy smile. He looped his arm around her shoulders and crushed her front against his breastplate.

"That's perfectly alright honey cakes," His dank breath wafted over her face and she had to fight the nausea bubbling in her stomach, "Pretty thing like you can bump into me as much as she likes." He waggled his eyebrow in a suggestive manor so she would catch his real meaning.

She forced a smile instead of the sneer she felt like giving him and patted his breastplate awkwardly before pushing them apart, "That's…nice. I should be going now. My mother is expecting me."

His face fell and he reached for her again but she was quick to step out of his range, "Ah. Why don't you lemme walk you?"

Emma backed away from him, a faux pleasant smile plastered to her face, "No that's alright, I can manage. Maybe I'll see you around."

He grinned and nodded, his choppy ginger locks falling into his eyes, "Definitely."

Emma turned on her heels and tried not to make it look like she was walking away from him as fast as she could. Her hand reached between the cloak and the pack to check for the journal, pleased when she felt its sharp corner jab into her palm. As she walked she situated it so that it sat in a more secure spot, stuffing it into the rolled up bedroll so that the pressure would keep it safely in place.

She stepped into the town center and grinned at the fountain in the middle, thinking that her pence must have been blessed for her to have become so lucky. Until she felt a hand clamp unto her shoulder and squeeze hard enough she felt hot pain tear through her muscles. She ground her teeth into one another to stop from hollering and tilted her head back to see the Queen's guard glaring at her with dark eyes.

"Ah…hi again." She gave him a sheepish smile, ignoring the way her stomach bottomed out upon seeing his face.

"You bitch, you tricked me." He hissed in her face. His hand that had been on her should reached around to cup her jaw roughly, giving him leverage to yank her face towards him. In her peripherals she could see his free hand moving behind his cape to loosen a knife from its sheath. The penalty for theft in Leopold's kingdom was the loss of a hand which the guards had a right to enact if they so pleased. Emma had seen it happen to many men and woman, even children, when walking through the market district. The murderous glint in this guardsmen's eyes made Emma believe that he intended to take more than just her hand.

She screamed. Not out of fear even though she felt the beginnings of it clawing at her insides. No she screamed to draw the attention of onlookers, anyone who had eyes to see that this man was about to kill her.

"Help! Help me please! I'm being attacked!" She thrashed and fought in his grip, bruising herself under his iron like hold. He whipped her head from side to side, checking to see if anyone was paying attention to her. People stopped to gawk for a moment until the guard shot a warning glare at them then they scurried away with their heads down.

He lowered his face back down, their noses bumping, "No one is going to save you, you little thief. That reward is _mine_. Don't think I don't know why you stole it."

Silver glinted in the sunlight when he cocked his arm back, aiming to plunge the tip of the dagger into her gut. The breath in her lungs turned to acid, burning her from the inside. Bile sloshed around her stomach violently, threatening to rise and spew from her lips. She was about to die and she hadn't even been given a chance to really live yet.

"Hold there! Gibson! What is it your doing with that girl there?" They both turned their head to take in an ornately dressed soldier. His armor gleamed red, a blue dragon painted onto his breastplate and swirling its tail round his shoulder onto his back. His helmet held a crimson plume on it and he wore a black cape, clasped to his pauldrons with gold latches. The Captain of the Guard.

Gibson sputtered for a moment at the sight of his Caption in his red armor. The knife in his hand clattered to the ground from his shock. Quickly he moved to kneel at the other mans feet.

"Sir! She-this girl, she stole from me! I was only going to punish her for her crimes, Sir." The Captain in red studied Gibson's bowed head critically before shifting his copper eyes to Emma. He looked over her reddened and already bruising mandible then to her rumbled state from his previous manhandling.

"Is that so. Tell me Gibson, what did this young woman take from you that permitted you to take her life?"

"I…Sir…she…" Gibson trailed off, mumbling below his breath. Emma smirked internally because she knew that he couldn't admit what Emma stole. Gibson himself had stolen and from the Queen of all people. Admitting to that would get him stripped of his honors, his title, and throw into the castle dungeon for the rest of his life with a stump for a hand.

"She? She what? Annunciate your words Gibson."

Gibson lifted his head a fraction to cut Emma a glare, his lips pulled back to bare his teeth like an animal, "Nothing Sir."

The Captain in Red nodded solemnly and folded his arms across his chest, his gauntlets clinking against one another, "As I suspected. You may be on your way young lady. I'll take care of him. Have a nice day and try to stay out of trouble. I'd hate to deal with you more than once today."

Emma nodded vehemently and backed away quickly. She only turned to hurry off after she caught Gibson giving her a look of pure death. Hopefully she'd never see him again because she feared, if they ever crossed paths again, there wouldn't be a Captain in Red to save her.

She hurried through the market district so that she could leave the city in haste. She was well over her 3 hours of safety and her parents could be on their way to collect her this moment. She had the journal, it could lead her to the Queen and Emma could attain all her dreams. For her, it seemed as if she could just reach and touch it they were so close to her. To have come this close only to have her parents come and drag her home would be worst than if Gibson had just ran her through.

She cast paranoid eyes around her, scanning the crowd for familiar faces just in case. Without looking ahead of her, Emma failed to see the body she roughly collided with. Force sent her to the ground. The flesh at her elbows tore and blood welled up, smearing across the stone inlaid within the road. She sucked in a breath at the pain. On her impact with the road, the journal dislodged from her bedroll and skidded across the road to stop at the boot of whom Emma ran into. With bleary eyes Emma watched a bony, age freckled hand slowly reach down to curl its slender fingers around it.

"What's this?" The old gypsies voice was interested and scratchy, like it had been used for far to long. She flipped the book over in her hands a few times, her milky eyes staring into the distance while she looked with her fingers.

"That's mine…" Emma squeaked, rising shakily to her feet and reaching for her book but stopping short when the old woman hissed at Emma. She ran her tongue across the one tooth within her mouth, roving her unseeing eyes around the crowds as she continued to turn the book over and over within her bony hands.

"Oh no, no, no! No it is not Emma daughter of David, daughter of Snow. It is not but it has passed to your hand by means of theft." The old woman cackled delightfully like she had just been told some joke that only she understood. Her fingers traced the black heart lock keeping the journal shut tight, round the tapered edge of the heart back to the two bubbles at the top. Emma watched her with a slack jaw, her own eyes alight with fear.

"How do you know my name?" She had never met this old crone before. She had never even seen her face before today. How was it possible for a completely stranger to know her so intimately.

The woman cackled again, a sound most unpleasant when coupled with the woman's blind stare and her seeing fingers that never ceased their assessment of the journal, "I know all for I see all. And I know how this journey of yours will end Emma, Farmers Daughter."

Emma's brows lowered over her eyes and her stomach twisted painfully. Pops had warned her of woman like this one. Seers. They were tricky and never to be trusted. When they spoke it was always a half truth or an allusion to the future meant to deceive. Though they appeared harmless, sometimes beautiful or sometimes old, they were more dangerous than a double headed snake of Agrabah.

"Don't speak to me! I don't want to hear anything you have to say!" She tore the journal from the woman's hands and clutched it tightly against her chest. Immediately she began looking around the woman for a way out, a way to escape. She tried to go left of the woman but her bony hand shot out, cuffing her around her bicep with surprising strength and agility for a woman her age.

"Oh but you do child. You want to hear everything I have to say," The Seers fingers began mapping out the skin on her arm, pinching at veins webbing beneath the flesh and pressing her thumb down hard into the muscle, "You'll succeed in completing your quest. You'll find your queen and the King will knight you for your deed. But you'll face many dangers and you won't survive them without the boy and the queen. Your soul is split and it will remain split until you find its other half but you'll fail to keep them together when you do. You'll find your heart only to give it away in the end. You-"

"No!" Emma screeched and yanked her arm from the old woman, her chest heaving from the breaths she was gulping in and pushing out, "No more! I won't hear another word!"

The Seer scowled, her wrinkled upper lip pulled high enough to show her discolored gums and her one rotting tooth, "You won't open the journal without magic Emma, Farmers Daughter. And magic you have none. Good day." The Seer pulled her wool shawl tighter around herself and walked away, disappearing within the crowd.

Emma stared after her, not looking for her, just looking to look because at the moment she didn't know what to do with herself. Every word the Seer spoke still swirling inside her head, toying with her thoughts and bringing worried to life she didn't know had existed until now. Her mind fought to make sense of the cryptic premonition that had been given to her but nothing came up except more worry and stress. Her fingers curled tighter around the journal. Blinking she pulled it from her chest to stare at it. The lock had no key hole. It didn't have a mark on it. The black heart just glimmering in the sunlight, reflecting her ashen face back at her. Could the old crone have been right? Magic to open it? But why would the Queen have a journal that can only be opened by magic? Unless the Queen herself possessed magic she wouldn't be able to use it. Emma swallowed the lump forming in her throat. The Queen had magic. The only way she'd get the journal open was if she handed it to the Queen herself and asked her to pop the lock. Or if she tracked the Seer down and made her do it.

Emma sighed and lifted her head, mindlessly letting her eyes wander while she thought. Magic. She needed magic. But she didn't have magic, she was just a farmers daughter. They don't have Fairy Godmothers or a tainted blood line that gave her the ability to hone the craft herself. Suddenly her eyes stopped on a vendors table. Powders and flowers lay across a wooden top, each ones giving off its own aura. Magic.

She pushed her way through the crowd towards the table. She threw Red's cloak to one side so she'd have the leeway to pull the pack form her shoulders. She had to dig around for a while before she found her bag of coins.

"Hello," A young girl with silver ribbons pleated into her hair greeted Emma, setting her folded hands atop the table that held all her wares, "Can I help you?"

"Ah yeah," Emma shoved the journal deep into her pack and closed it back up, tossing it back over her shoulder and readjusting the cloak to fit her properly, "I need magic."

The girls eyes twinkled with mirth as she tilted her head to inspect Emma. The ribbons in her hair seemed to move momentarily before stilling once more. Warmth cocooned her like a bubble, making Emma suddenly forget why she was there. The longer she stared at the girl the more trouble she had trying to recall anything. The girls eyes held her captive, eyes that changed colors every other second. Transitioning between grey to blue to green to purple before stopping at a glowing silver just like the ribbon in her hair.

Emma gulped. Casually she flicked her eyes to the wagon behind the girl that had boxes of unsold items resting in it, flinching when she saw the insignia burned into the wood. A siren. The little girl was a siren.

"You need magic?" Her voice was like listening to rain patter against her roof at night or like the lull of ocean waves crashing against the shore. Peaceful and pulling. The blonde had a hard time fighting it. The siren girl blinked, her eyes changing to a moss green, and looked down at the table. A pinch appeared between her brows when she frowned.

"Magic isn't something I sell I'm afraid. I sell things with magic properties. I could sell you the hair of a mermaid? It cuts through anything or if you burn it, you can use the ashes to cure gangrene. I have chimera fur. I have-"

"I need something that can open a magical lock. Do you have anything like that?" Again the siren just blinked at her, tilting her head to the side. Thankfully she didn't seem upset that Emma had cut her off. Pops hadn't told her much about sirens except that you should never piss them off. They can easily get in your head and make you do anything they want.

"Give me a moment?" Emma nodded. The siren stepped into her wagon and reappeared a moment later with a jar in her hand. The glass was an odd shade and had a black wax seal on the top so Emma couldn't really see what was inside it. Something told her she didn't want to.

"This should do it. Try to use it sparingly though, it is very hard to come by." The siren set the jar on the table and placed her hands on either side of it, looking at Emma with that same blank look.

"Right," Emma pulled the string to her pouch and reached inside for a few coins, "How much?"

She quirked her lips that Emma noticed sparkled from some unseen substance her lips were made of, "Aren't you going to ask what it is?"

Emma opened her mouth then snapped it shut. She looked down at the jar in contemplation, trying to decide if it would be worth asking.

"Its dragon blood." She spoke instead of waiting for the question. Emma's eyes doubled in size. Dragon blood? Dragon lore strictly taught that dragons do not bleed. When you opened a wound on them, instead of blood fire leaked out to burn the wound shut. The only way to get a dragon to bleed was to cut the heart from its chest and milk it like a honeycomb in a jar.

Emma pursed her lips and pointed a finger at the jar, "There's…there's a…"

"A dragon's heart in this jar, yes. And it will cost you…" The girl tilted her head to the side, her braid with the moving ribbons in them falling over her shoulder, "Your hair."

Before Emma could question why the girl reached out to pull lock of hair out of her head. She yelped and jumped back, reaching her hand up to hold it against her throbbing scalp. She glared at the little siren as she tucked Emma's blond hair into the pocket of her dress with a childish grin on her face.

"Will that be all?" The girls voice was pleasant, as if she hadn't just ripped Emma's hair out in exchange for the heart of a dragon.

"Yeah," Emma glared, grabbing the jar from the table and trying to contain her grimace when the heat of the glass was enough to burn her palm, "Wait. No. Do you have a map and a compass by any chance? Nothing of magic, just a regular map and compass will do."

The girl actually jutted her lip out in a pout, as if she were disappointed that Emma would ask for something so blan. She heaved a great sigh as she bent to reach under the table and pull up a rolled up piece of parchment and a round bit of copper that had a glass face. Emma reached for the items before pausing, her eyes flickering up to the girl.

"Your not, like, gonna rip my fingernail off for these are you?"

The girl blinked, eyes turning a blood red, and scrunched up her nose, "Why would I do that?"

Emma gestured to her head, " 'Cause you just…with my…whatever. How much?"

"A shilling will do."

Emma nodded and dropped the round silver coin due atop the table. She held the burning jar in one, willing herself not to drop it, while she struggled to stuff the compass in the pocket of her breeches and hold the rolled up map beneath her arm.

"Have a good day Miss." The siren smiled and her ribbons wiggled in her hair. Emma shuddered at the strange sight.

"Yeah. You too."

Emma walked her way down the city streets for the second time that day. Now the sun was up and the city was alive. Light pooled from the windows of the houses and noise rose into the sky with the smoke from the chimneys. She paused at the gate to look back, knowing this would be the last time she visited the city for a long time and she wouldn't be coming back until she had Leopold's magical wife in tow.

She changed her grip on the jar in her hand. The blood inside would crack the lock on the Queens journal and that would get her one step closer to completing her journey. Just like the Seer said she would. The magic in the blood would crack the black heart lock. For some strange reason, thinking of that black heart made Emma's stomach flutter with an unexpected giddiness.

**Okay guys, chapter 2. Now normally I don't bang out chapters this fast but I want to get to the part where I can introduce Henry into the story and then, once I do that, we can get some Swan Queen going. I'll admit guys, some more reviews would be appreciated. Show me some love. Or you know, you can complain about all of the mistakes I'm sure you found. I apologize for that. **


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Emma had been walking along the road for hours now. Her thighs were beginning to burn and her feet would probably hurt less if she just cut them off. The farm land that surrounded Leopold's land had started to shift from fields of flatness to shrubbery and hills. The longer she had walked the more dense the shrubs became until they turned into trees and the hills in the background became mountains. The road that which she walked upon stayed true though the gravel began to shift from a white rock to a brown dirt highway. The very same highway that travels used when going between lands. By the time the sun had reached midday, the trees had grown tall enough that Emma couldn't see anything in the background except more trees on both sides of the road.

She stopped in the middle of the road to gather her bearings. On all sides of her were trees. The only thing that convinced her that she hadn't just stumbled into the Enchanted Forest was that highways wide dirt road continuing on into the distance. There were no signs out here, no markers, and no other travelers. Just her and the trees and the road. She could keep walked and hope that soon she'd break from the forest back into flat stretches of land but she didn't know if she could do it before night hit.

Her stomach gurgled loud enough to startle her. She looked down at her flat belly and tried to remember the last time she ate. When her stomach gurgled again, louder this time, she decided it didn't matter because she was hungry now. Glancing over her shoulder just to check for any other travelers or riders out of habit, Emma stepped off the road into the forest. She walked a few paces before she found a nice flat area to sit and have lunch.

She untied the leather straps around her neck and slid Red's cloak of her shoulders. She was careful not to let it drag across the forest floor when she reached up to hang it on a low branch of a pine tree. She slipped the pack and Belle's satchel off her shoulders and set them on the ground, propped against the tree. It was the first time since she left home that she had taken them off and suddenly she felt about 30 pounds lighter. Her shoulders stung and the muscles in the upper half of her back were in a bunch of tense knots. She raised her arms above her head to stretch her muscles out, letting out a pleased sigh.

She nodded to herself and plopped onto the ground, crossing her legs under herself. The pack had been filled neatly so that everything fit into it just right (most likely Belle's doing) and it made Emma smile. There was a loaf of hard travel bread wrapped up in cloth, Emma set it aside. A odd number of apples, one of which Emma put in her mouth like a hog. Some dried meats, the ones that David hung up in the smoke house and took with him when he had to travel long distances to market. Other things, like preserved jams, some day old biscuits, honey-seedcakes, and two canteens full of what Emma assumed to be water. When Emma dug around towards the bottom of the pack her fingers bumped a tin flask of liquor and the Dragon Heart Jar. She yanked her fingers back with a hiss.

She pulled the apple from her mouth to suck on her fingers, rolling her tongue across the burnt flesh. Her palm was still raw and tender from carrying the jar as long as she had before she had slipped it into her pack. For whatever reason, the thing remained hot as an ember and didn't show any signs of ever cooling down. Foolishly she had continued carrying it around until she thought it would but that had only led to the burn on her palm growing worst and worst. When she had put it away, for a brief moment she had been worried the jar would burn everything in her pack but nothing did. In fact everything within the pack was cool to the touch, even the objects that had been resting against the jar. Apparently, it only burnt her.

She leaned back against the tree behind her and munched on her apple while she looked at the forest canopy above her. Sunlight filtered through between the spaces left by leaves and branches, casting pretty shadows all along the ground below. Sounds of wildlife reached her ears though she couldn't spot any. Foxes barked at one another, birds chirped above her, and she could hear the faint sound of a deer grunting far off. Wind lightly blew through sporadically, knocking leaves off their branches and sending them fluttering through the air. She kept herself amused by watching them, counting in her head how many hit the ground below.

When she finished her light lunch she packed everything back up except the Dragon Heart Jar and the journal. She kept the spoon she had used for her jam between her lips as she stared at the two items resting on the forest floor in front of her. Right now would be the best time to try opening the journal with the light of the sun at its peak so she'd have light to read. Still she hesitated. Something about the journal was troubling her that she couldn't place. Since seeing it, she felt disoriented. She had a feeling like she should recognize the journal though the thought of that was illogical. Leopold's people had never even laid eyes on their new Queen once save for the ones that worked within the castle. For Emma to recognize the journal with not only memory but with her heart was ludicrous. Yet her heart did recognize it. Not the purple canvas or the weight of it but that little black heart lock. Something about it made Emma dizzy from the way it rocked her heart back and forth within her ribcage. She felt a pull like an invisible string between the black heart and her own. That thought too was ludicrous.

She had to open it if she wanted to find the Queen. So with great reluctance Emma pulled the spoon from her mouth and used it to break the wax seal on the Dragon Heart Jar. Wax fell away in crumbles around the jar onto the forest floor, leaving bits of black to mix in with the plush greens and browns. An acrid stench rose from the now open jar and brought tears to Emma's eyes, her stomach turning violently. She had to turn her head away for a moment to compose herself with her nose buried in the crook of her arm. That little siren should have warned her about the smell. After a moment for composer Emma turned back to the jar and dipped the spoon into the thick, blue liquid bubbling inside the jar. Shivers wracked her spine when the spoon tip pushed into something that was pliable and started to glow a dark blue. When she took the spoon off it, the glow died away as if it had never happened. She shook her head in amazement. She had never seen anything like this growing up on the farm back home. What would Pops say if she told him she had seen a real dragon heart up close and poked it with her jam spoon?

She carefully lifted the spoon from the boiling dragon blood and dripped it onto the black heart lock. Puffs of smoke rose from it accompanied by a loud sizzling sound as the dragon began eating right through the metal. She set her spoon aside to watch, fascinated, as the two different kinds of magic fought at one another until the magic in the lock gave way to the much more powerful magic of the blood. The book flipped itself open, pages flapping madly, until it came to a stop on what Emma suspected to be the last entry written within it. Emma didn't need to read a word to see that the Queen had the most beautiful hand writing she had ever seen. Swooping calligraphy done in shining gold ink painted the page in a slanted pattern, not a smudge or a mistake to be seen. Emma picked up the journal and laid it splayed open in her lap. She suddenly understand what her mother had meant when she told Emma that she would thank Snow later for forcing Emma to walk to and from town everyday as a child to take reading lessons.

She had never attempted to read such intricate writing before but if she went at it slowly, running her fingertip along the underside of each word, she managed.

_I'm writing from a sad place today, my heart. I fear I can't take much more of this life. Playing dress up for the King so that he has something sweet for his eyes to feast upon. Being the ruthless woman my mother dreams me to be so that I may steal the throne from under my husband. A husband she so carefully made sure would fall into my lap and leave me with no other option than to accept his proposal. Oh my heart, how you hurt these days. I can feel you cracking within me and weeping blood between your fissures. How much longer can you go on like this? My heart, you crave love like I do. But my heart, you and I are a lonely breed born to live alone until we die. We'll never know happiness as long as we live here, beneath the King's thumb. His fake love is suffocating me as much as his presence is. _

_Tonight I'll flee. I've already made preparations, as you know. After he has taken his liberates from me, I'll slip from under him and fade into the night. I'll walk so that there will be no one involved for the King to hear of. And I'll walk until I find my first home, the home of my father and there I'll stay. Oh heart…how I long for someone to be waiting for me there. Someone with loving arms that would hold me and kiss away this constant pain. Do you remember that stable boy that use to look at me? Daniel. Sometimes I wonder what became of him after he left my family's estate to work elsewhere. I do believe he liked me. Perhaps back then, when I was still a child of heart and pure of body I could have found it within me to love him. But now I do not think that I could stomach the touch of another man without thinking of Leopold's. That is why I'll never love, heart. I'm sorry that I can't give you a companion. True Love isn't within the cards for me. Though, I'm reluctant to admit, the child within me will always long for it. _

_This is my last entry to you my heart. I'm going to leave this journal hidden beneath the boards in my personal chamber. I hope that if I do this, then the new queen Leopold chooses after I've gone will find this and know that I feel her pain and she isn't alone. Oh my heart….how I wish this journal could be for another person and not just something to keep myself from going mad with my own loneliness. But I have no one who understands me, who I can talk to without needing my walls to protect me. You understand me, my heart, because you are mine and you are broken just like me. _

_Goodnight my heart,_

_Regina_

Tears swam in Emma's eyes though they didn't fall. Guilt chewed at her insides and, if she didn't get a grip on her rampant emotions, it would rip her to pieces. What she had just read was the writings of the saddest woman in this kingdom and Emma had made it her mission to drag that woman back to her torture for Emma's personal gain. Conflict raged on two halves of her heart. One side arguing that it had always wanted to be a knight and that was all that mattered. The second side wanted to let this woman be. Surely she had found her first home and was living in peace there without this agony she had wrote into each word.

The sound of twigs breaking under foot startled Emma from her thoughts. She turned her head towards where the sound had come from but saw nothing. Small hairs on her arms stood up when the chills that swept across her body left gooseflesh. Someone-some_thing-_was watching her. She snapped the journal shut and jammed it back into her pack without looking, her eyes scanning her surroundings frantically. He hand reached for the Dragon Heart Jar but paused midway, uncertainly giving her pause. She didn't need it any longer since it had done its job of breaking the black heart lock. Still she'd feel wrong just leaving it here in the middle of the forest for an animal to get into. For all she knew the stuff could be toxic and poison the area. She'd keep it. Just in case. Quickly she pulled a spare legging from her pack and tied it over the top. More cracking sounds, following by a low rumbling growl emanated from what seemed like all around her. Nerves set in and her body began to quake. She fumbled for a wax stick in her pack and a match which she stuck and dripped wax around the brim of the Dragon Heart Jar as a makeshift seal. The rumbling grew in intensity. She put everything back in her pack and shouldered it along with Belle's satchel. She yanked Red's cloak from the branch she had it hung it on and took off sprinting towards the road.

Except she had forgot which way the road was and ended up running deeper into the forest. Booming steps followed her every stride. The trees rattled from the force of whatever chased her. Her heart hammered inside her chest. Fear oozed from her every pore, fear like she had never felt before. She didn't know what it was, nothing like this lived within the woods near her home on the farm. Her Pops had never taught her anything about this. She was truly terrified. So she ran. She ran hard and faster, deeper and deeper into the woods. Until suddenly she wasn't running anymore. Something coiled around her ankle and pulled taught. Her entire world flipped upside down as she was pulled into the air by her ankle, both the back and satchel fell from her body and smashed into the ground below. A loud keening sound rang through the woods like a scream that chilled her to her very bones. She continued to go up and up and up until suddenly the thing around her ankle stopped but her body did not. The motion continued carrying her up. Pain exploded in her skull where it contacted hard with a thick branch and then she was falling down. Down, down until the thing around her leg pulled tight again and she hung, suspended in the air by it. Her body swung back and forth like a pendulum, her vision blurry from the head wound she was sure she had.

Not blurry enough to miss what was coming towards her through the trees however. A bulk of black scales and burning cobalt eyes with paws that were more talon than scaly flesh and bone. Through her double vision she couldn't tell what it was but she could see that it was formidable hunkered low in a predatory way and that it was big. As big as her parents cottage maybe.

Everything around her was fading out just like her consciousness was. Try as she might she couldn't keep her eyes open nor fight the ache inside her skull. Perhaps that was for the best so that when, whatever this was, came to eat her like the easy prey she was, she wouldn't have to feel it. She could die without the pain. That was nice to think about. Though her thoughts slipped from that to Regina, the Queen of Sorrow in the journal, and stuck there. Emma desperately wanted to find Regina but now she wasn't sure why. Something indiscernible in her wanted to find her so that Emma could be someone other than a journal that Regina could talk to. Fulfill the wishes of her lonely heart. Sadly, Emma would now never get that chance since she was about to be monster chow.

Hot, acrid breath washed over her face as it breathed on her or rather, breathing her in. Taking in her scent. The scales on its snout rubbed against her cheek. Scales that had to be harder than rock and as sharp as knifes because she could feel the flesh of her cheek giving and tearing under the many black scales. She cracked her eyes open just to see it one more time before she died. One, round blue eyes was staring at her and, strangely, Emma felt like she had seen that strange shade of blue somewhere before. Her head already hurt to much to try thinking about why.

To the left, a sudden sound of metal banging against metal rang through the clearing. The beast before her snapped its head towards the sound at an inhuman speed. The scales along its neck bristled and it let out a low warning growl. Emma had to fight just to turn her head to see what had shown up to make noise.

Standing there was a boy. A boy with brown hair sticking from under the fox fur hat her wore atop his head, the tail of the fox hanging over one of his shoulders and the ears of it still sticking up. The splash of freckles that ran along the tops of his round cheeks and across the bridge of his nose accented his flecked hazel eyes. His tunic was a little to big for him and his trousers were a little to short, the rope belt cinched around his middle was doing a good job of keeping his whole outfit together. The little guy didn't even have any shoes on. In his hand he held a cherry wood crossbow that wasn't loaded with a bolt but rather a smooth stone. On his other side he had strapped a kite shield the size of his entire torso to his forearm. His little nose scrunched up, his lips stuck out in a sort of defiant pout, as he continued to bang his crossbow against the shield.

The beast let out an earth shaking roar that didn't even make the boy flinch. It's massive talons kneaded at the ground below it as it moved from side to side like a cornered animal. The boy hollered at it and raised his crossbow to shoot the stone at it. It smacked the beast right between the eyes. Another loud roar rattled the forest as it backed away from the boy, one of its paws lifting to rub the backside it against the spot that the stone had hit. There was no way the rock had hurt it but it had made the beast wary enough to back away from the fox hat boy. The beast keened lowly and turned its head back to Emma who was still dangling there, dripping blood from her head onto the leaves and pine needles below. It growled viciously and snapped at her, teeth missing Emma's nose by a fraction of a centimeter, before it turned and bolted through the woods. A tail snapped around behind it as it fled. She continued to watch the spot it had vacated long after it was gone until a boy's face filled her entire vision, the bright orange of his fox hat making her head pound with an extra kick of pain.

"Woo! Man was that scary. Dunno what it was but man…I'm Henry! Who're you?" The boy rushed out in an excited babble, his teeth gleaming from his broad grin. Emma could barely keep up. Everything was fading out again. She opened her mouth to respond but instead felt her eyes roll into the back off her head and then nothing.

**And cue Henry's big entrance! Two updates in one day. On a roll here. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I love hearing from you, don't be shy. Tell me what you thought. **


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Nothing about the world was upside down when her eyes cracked open. There was no pressure constricting her ankle so she had to believe, coupled with the righted vision, she was no longer aloft. Wetness soaked into the back of her linen shirt and breeches, she only prayed that it wasn't her own blood. One of her arms slowly lifted so that she could press her fingers lightly against the throbbing point on her head. Soft bandage was what she felt instead of hair and that surprised her but, gods above, did her head hurt. It felt like there was a dwarf running around in her skull, banging on her brain with a hammer. Nothing made the pain stop, not closing her eyes, not leaving them open, and not even laying still. Constant ache permeated from the back of her skull where it had been smacked against the tree branch. She was immensely thankful for the fact that the sun had gone down and there was no light to cause her more hurt.

"Oh good, your awake. I thought you were dead for a little while but now I know your not. That's good." Emma rolled her head to the side with a groan, pain shooting down her spine to the tips of her toes. Sitting on the other side of a small camp fire was Henry, his fox hat still atop his head making it look like fox ears were growing right out of his cranium. He had a lopsided smile that made him look like the boy he was unlike before, when he had been shouting at the beast that wanted to kill Emma. A book lay splayed open in his lap that he seemed to be reading by firelight before he had noticed Emma's consciousness. To the side of him were various piles of different colored leaves, flowers, and berries. She wondered what he intended to cook with those.

"How long was I out?" She pushed her palms against the ground on both sides of her and tried to push herself up but ended up falling right back onto her back when intense pain bloomed in her head.

"Don't try to get up," Henry scooted closer on his knees, the book falling onto the ground in front of him, "The book says you shouldn't. It also says that," He turned to grab what looked like yellow spider eggs from his pile and thrust it in Emma's face, "If you eat this, the pain should go away."

Emma eyed them for a moment before giving Henry a look, "You have obviously lost your mind Kid. There is no way I'm putting that anywhere near my mouth."

He pouted and when he pouted, he _really_ gave it his all, "But the book says!"

"What book?"

"This one." He picked up the book that was still open on the forest floor in front of him and laid it on Emma's stomach as gently as he could, for her to look over. She didn't try to pick her head to look at the book but instead lifted it above her. Memory struck instantly.

"Hey! Where did you get this!? Did you through my stuff, you little sneak!?" She shot up and instantly wished she hadn't. Nausea hit hard, harder than the pain and the vertigo, and she began swaying with a tight grip on her stomach. Acid burned the back of her throat from the bile wanting to rise.

"No! When you stepped into my trap it rung the bell in my castle so I came to see what I caught and saw you hanging up there and that thing was trying to get you. And then you passed out and your stuff was all over the ground," He gulped in a huge breath of air before he kept babbling on, "So I picked it up after I cut you down. I would have brought you back to my castle but your too big for me so I drug you this far. And so I put your stuff back in the bag but I saw the book and I wanted to read it and I did. And it said stuff that could help you. So…yeah." He gave a great heave after his spiel, patting his sternum with a smile as if he was pleased that he managed all those words on one breath.

Emma just stared at him with a blank look, unsure of how to react, as she hugged Belle's book to her chest. She hoped he hadn't damaged it with his grubby little fingers. Panicked, she cut a look to his hands and let out a sigh of relief when she saw they were clean.

"Yeah well…hands off, okay Kid?"

He nodded vigorously, "Promise. But you really should eat this. It's called Honey Wax! I had to climb a tree and all just to get it for you! I got stung by a bee and everything. Look!" He pointed to a red welt on the backside of his hand with a small pout. Her brows furrowed as she looked at it.

"Why would you do that? You don't even know me."

If Henry's bravado was a rug, then Emma had just ripped it out from under him. His whole face sank, including his shoulders, and he reached up to toy with the fox tail sewn to the back of his hat. He kept his hazel eyes fixed firmly on the small fire emitting a surprising amount of heat.

"Well," He looked at her for only a second, his gaze more towards the top of her head where her bandage was, "I sort of felt bad. 'Cause it was my trap you stepped into so I figured I kind of owed you. Plus…I want to be a hero someday! And hero's always save a damsel in distress-"

"Whoa, whoa! Hold on for just a damn second Kid," Emma threw her hands up, palms towards him, her eyebrows pinched, "Let's just get one thing straight. I am _not _a damsel. And I wasn't in _distress_. I had everything under control." She folded her arms across her chest with a giant huff.

Henry let out a childish giggle, his little fingers woven tight into the orange and white fur of his foxtail as his body rocked from his laughter, "Sure you did," His giggle tapered off and he just smiled at her, "I like you."

She tightened her jaw but didn't say anything. They sat in silence as Henry smiled at the fire, his hand still playing with the foxtail, and Emma just watched him while battling her nausea. How strange that fate have delivered her this _kid _to be her saving grace earlier. Granted she may have been able to get herself out of that sub-par trap but she certainly wouldn't have been able to do it fast enough. Whatever that thing was would have eaten her and left nothing but bones for her mother and father to mourn over. If that. So maybe the kid had saved her but her ego wasn't ready to admit it yet and she wasn't ready to trust him yet. He seemed harmless enough and he wasn't pretty sweet, if the bee sting on his hand said anything, but she wasn't exactly the trusting type. To many bad experiences. Still, he was just a kid. She looked at the Honey Wax still in his hand and frowned.

"Hey Kid," His round eyes and his crooked smile turned to her, "That Honey Wax stuff taste as awful as it looks?"

He shrugged and held out the hand that had three of the oval shaped balls cradled in his palm, "Dunno. But the book said it will help with pain. And I have some other things the book suggested. Stuff for nas…nasi…um when you feel all throw up-y? And one thing that is suppose to heal your head completely but I already put that on. That's why I wrapped your head up and I didn't even have to cut your hair!"

"Really?" She peaked over his shoulder at his little pile of ingredients and wondered which one would make her feel less like she was on a ship in the middle of a storm.

"Yeah here, hold this," He shoved the wax balls into her hold for keeping while he retrieved something from his pile and shuffled back to her on his knees, "Um…this one has a funny name but it's a flower. And it grows around my castle. I have actually eaten one before and its super yummy. This one will make your tummy better. There's birch bark and imp tongue wrap on your head. Not like, real imp tongue. That's a flower too. The book said so. So you should eat this one and this one, and it will make you feel better." Henry carefully placed the white and orange streaked flower on her knee. When she made no move to consume either the flower or the Honey Wax, he frowned.

"What's wrong?" He scanned the flower critically then the Honey Wax, "Do you think I got the wrong kind? You can check the book! I took it with me when I went, that way I couldn't mess up."

Despite her idea to dislike this kid for being a stranger, she felt herself smiling at his natural ability to be adorable. Whoever his parents were, they raised him right. He was full of all kinds of caring and worrying like a decent human being should be.

"It's not that Kid."

"Oh," He furrowed his brows in contemplation, "Then what is it?"

She held up the Honey Wax, "Does this look all that appetizing to you?"

He looked at it, holding his chin between his thumb and his forefinger, "No. But I'll eat one too that way, if it is super gross, you won't be the only one!"

She chuckled, "Sure Kid. Here." She tossed him one that he caught with little struggle for coordination.

She didn't wait for him to chew on his, instead she popped one in her mouth and set it between her molars. The texture of it against the side of her tongue made her want to gag but she suppressed the urge. Something between sticking a cobweb and a stick in her mouth. For the taste of it, however, Emma could find herself enjoying the little waxy balls. Despite their name, they didn't taste of honey but something of tart and spice, both pleasant to the buds lining her tongue. She worked her way through it, wanting to savor the taste but ignore the texture of it, and the moment it hit her stomach, relief washed through like wash and took all her pain with it.

A brief look towards Henry told her the boy didn't mind the texture and in fact enjoyed it because he was happily munching on another one. She shook her head at him.

"Not bad," He muttered, pocketing a handful in an inseam breast pocket hidden within his oversized tunic, "Did it make you feel better?"

She rolled her ankle that had been caught by the trap, taking note of the deeply purple bruise, and rolled her shoulders. No pain there. A touch to the back of her head, unfelt, was enough to convince her. She shot the boy a grin and shook her head.

"Great! Now the flower." He gestured towards the one resting on her knee then pointed towards his stomach. She picked it up and rolled the stem between her fingers a little.

"Do I just…eat the petals or…what?" Sweet fragrance rose it, tantalizing her to press her nose closer for more.

"No no. Gimmi it." He reached his fingers inside the flower and pulled the bulbous perianth out from the center of the flower and tipped it so that the bulbous end was down and the tube end was up. His fingertips squeezed it lightly and a colorless liquid rose to the top of the tube but, just before it spilled over, he eased off the pressure so that it went back inside the perianth.

"See? You drink this stuff that's inside. Don't worry it's really good. I promise." The flower part was traded hands and Emma brought it to her lips. Just like Henry had she applied pressure to it with her fingertips so that the colorless liquid could drip into her mouth. The taste was pleasant, as Henry had promised, and rolled off her tongue down the back off her throat. Sticky, sweetness clung to her lips after she had finished and threw the empty perianth into the fire.

"That was pretty good," The nausea was gone. She'd be sure to thank Belle for packing that book for her and she may as well, "Thanks Kid." thank the Kid.

He beamed at her and nodded shortly, his hand going back up to tug on the foxtail lightly. She pointed at it with her thinking face on, brows furrowed low and lips pursed.

"Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"You touch that, a lot. Why?"

He hesitated. His hand fell away from the hat and his shoulders fell, his head falling with them. Silence fell over them once again and Emma couldn't understand why. It had been a simple question that was only born out of idol curiosity, not something that was planned to deeply perturb the boy. Tact never was one of Emma's given traits, rather it was something that her mother slapped into the back of her head after she said something crude and offending.

"He was my only friend." Henry gripped the tail between both his hands, eyes watching the cinders that rose on the heat from the fire into the air.

Emma raised a brow, "He?"

"Yeah. He was a boy. His name was Rodger," Henry smiled to himself, "It was the only name I could think of and he liked it. I could tell. When I was a kid, I used to live in the city at the orphanage where they found me as a baby. Somebody left me on the steps. The ladies there were always so cranky and mean to me so when I saw Rodger playing outside my window, in the street, I went to play with him. And then he started to leave and I didn't want him to go away. So I followed him into the forest. It was so much nicer here than the orphanage that I just stayed. I grew up here, all by myself. Well, I had Rodger. Until he got sick from being old and then he died. But I didn't want to forget him or leave him so I made him into a hat, so that'd he always be with me. He keeps my ears warm." Henry reached up to run the two fox ears atop the hat between his thumb and forefinger with a goofy grin.

Emma watched him with a small smile, bemused by his strange story but also touched. An orphan who had followed a fox into the woods and lived all by himself? People couldn't write these things, let alone try to pawn them off as the truth.

"You're a funny kind of kid you know that?"

He just gave her another one of his lopsided smiles and crawled back over to where he had been when Emma awoke. Maybe she could believe his story, he just seemed so at ease with the forest. Even more so than she had ever seen Red after spending the night as a wolf when she woke up. No shoes on his feet and yet no shiver in his body from the nip in the air. No real house to live in but a castle he speaks of as if the forest is his kingdom and the king. No home, no family, no life and yet he smiles, he laughs, and he's kinder than most of Emma's kin. What a peculiar boy Henry was.

"We shouldn't try to walk at night," He mumbled as she laid himself down on the hard forest floor, "The forest is really mean to anyone who walks at night. So we'll just sleep here. Don't worry it's safe." He reached across his body to retrieve his cherry wood crossbow loaded with a stone and Emma's bedroll. She was pleased to see that Red's cape was stuffed inside the bedroll. Henry chucked it near her, not over the fire but low and curved around it so that it would land without much noise. She leaned forward to pull Red's cape out of it and threw it around her shoulders, tying the leather straps. Instant warmth blanketed her entire body as if she were lying naked under the hottest summer sun. Then, after she leaned back against he tree behind her, all fell silent again.

"My name is Emma. By the way." She mumbled after a while. She figured since Henry had trusted her with his story, she could give him her name. Besides, he was nothing but a boy. He wouldn't, probably couldn't, hurt her and truth be told the little guy was growing on her.

He turned his head towards her to give her a smile, "Nice to meet you. You're the first person I've talked to since I ran away from the orphanage," He looked back up at the treetops, "It's nice. Sometimes, palace guards or knights will travel through here but they never see me. I just see them. And sometimes they die here too. I use to cover their bodies up with leaves but they were always just there. I didn't think it was right so now, when one of them dies, I take something from them and I put it in my castle. That way someone will always have a reason to remember them. Even if its just me. Kind of like a grave you know?"

Emma just nodded. This kid was full of baffling surprises. He may appear to be only 11 or 12 but he was far older on the inside. A boy who grew up faster than his body was ready for.

"Hey Emma?"

"Yeah Kid?"

"Do you think we can be friends?"

"I don't see why not. In fact, you might be able to help me. I mean," She touched the wrap around her head gingerly, "More than you already have."

That caught his attention. He turned on his stomach and rested his chin on his folded arms. His wide, curious hazel eyes caught the firelight and gave them a twinkle.

"How can I help you Emma?"

She tugged Red's cloak tighter around herself, casting nervous glances around the area like Gibson may pop out or any other people who sought to claim their reward by finding the queen may be listening in. Henry did the same though he didn't know what he was looking for, he was just following Emma's lead.

"Well, I'm on a mission to become a knight."

Henry's eyes grew wider, joy and excitement swirling in their hazel depths, "So you're a knight!?"

Emma's bottom lip jutted out in an almost pout, "No. Not yet. But I'm on a mission to become one."

"Oh. Okay. I don't know what I can do to help you with that." His brows pinched and he looked rather frustrated with himself for being a hindrance instead of the help Emma needed.

"You can show me how to get out of these woods. See, I need to find the Queen. She's been missing for over 2 months time now. And the King has offered a great reward for anyone who can find her and bring her back. I have a journal that the Queen kept that says the Queen ran away. She was going to find her first home. So I think, if I head south into Winterland, I can get information. I heard rumors that the Queen hailed from there."

Henry was bobbing his head along in understanding to every word Emma said until she finished. He looked deeply contemplative for a few quiet minutes as Emma sat eagerly waiting for his reply.

"There has been a lot more people who have come through the woods lately," He nodded and held up his crossbow, "The last one who died left this. I wondered why but now I know. I guess I can show you how to get out but…"

Emma raised a brow, "But?"

Henry grinned a devilish little grin, "But you have to take me with you if I do."

Emma stared at the kid while she deliberated it. Taking him with her would be, in the long run, a bad idea. She didn't have enough food for two people nor did she have another bedroll for him that he would surely need once they passed into Winterland. Yet she couldn't deny that his skills that he had attained from living life in the wilderness would come in handy later. He may be of some use. Plus, the company couldn't hurt.

"Sure Kid. You got yourself a deal."

"Awesome." He breathed out through his happy smile.

"We'll have to pick up some shoes for you at the next town we cross and winter clothes. Some other things too. Can't have you freezing to death on me, now can we?" She gave him a smile that he laughed at.

"Guess not. Thank you. We can stop by my castle tomorrow morning and you can see if there is anything there that might help us," He turned onto his back and closed his eyes, "G'night Emma."

Emma frowned at the boy. Did he honestly intend to sleep like that? With no blanket or anything at all?

"Aren't you gonna get cold, Kid?"

"Nah. I'm use to it. But," He peaked at her with one eye open, the corner of his lip curved upwards, "If you have an extra blanket I can use, that would be nice."

She pointed to her pack that was laying by him, "You can check in there. G'night Henry. Sweet dreams."

He paused, his hand halfway out to Emma's pack, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open. Slowly he turned his eyes to give her a look she couldn't understand.

"Sweet dreams?" His meek question barely made it to her ears.

"Yeah," She lowered her brows and pursed her lips, "That's what people say to you before you go to bed. Like how they say 'have a nice day' before they leave somewhere. You know?"

He looked down at his knees, both bent at strange ankles to accommodate the degree he had his torso twisted to reach the pack, "I guess. No one's ever said it to me before."

"Oh," And she'll admit, that broke her heart a little to hear it, "Then sweet dreams Henry."

"Sweet Dreams, Emma. Have a nice day!"

"No…that one is for during the daytime Kid."

"Oh."

"We'll work on it."

**Alright. That's chapter 3. Hope you guys enjoyed it, as always let me know. Love your feedback. So…only like, 2 more chapters until we finally get some REGINA in this story. Swan Queen happy feels is neigh upon you all! And it's fuckin' one in the morning. G'night all! Sweet fucking dreams. **


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sunlight wasn't what woke Emma nor was it the incessant chirping of the birds congregating in the trees above her; rather, it was the odd sensation of being watched. Little prickles spread across her skin, raising goose flesh, and caused a chill to sweep through her body. When she opened her eyes and sat up to look around, she found nothing but a ring of cinders where a fire had once been and a boy sleeping soundly beside it.

"Henry. Henry-Kid wake up!" Emma was still casting frantic eyes around the surrounding area as she poked at Henry until the boy sat up. Something was out there, she could feel it. Even though she may not be able to see it, or hear it, she could feel it. The very same feeling she had felt before the beast had bolted after her.

"Wha…Emma? Is it…time to go?" He rubbed his curled up hand against his closed eye and yawned loudly. Henry's fox hat was titled on his head far to one side, precariously close to falling off and if Emma weren't so frantic from the crawling of her skin, she'd find it adorable.

"Yeah Kid. Pack up quick so we can head to your castle." The sleep in Henry's eyes evaporated quickly and he nodded, righting his hat as he did so.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he shoved the fleece blanket he had used last night back into the pack. Emma tossed him the bedroll after she had rolled it back up for him to tie to the pack.

"Nothing Kid. I'm just in a hurry." Not like she was afraid they were about to be attacked by a mystery monster that had a hankering for some farmers daughter and maybe a brown haired forest orphan if it was given the chance. Henry didn't need all the details though.

With Henry's help they packed up quickly-not that Emma had much to pack anyway-and were on their way. Henry took the lead with her cherry wood crossbow swinging in one hand and his heavy feet that seemed to land on a pile of twigs or dry leaves. Emma flinched every time he made a noise and look all around her in paranoia. She was expecting a mass of black scales to pop out of nowhere and kill them both. Being an optimist did not pass from Snow to Emma through the genetic line, to Snow's dismay. She had developed her father's realism and his stubborn headed refusal to ever give up on anything even if it killed her.

The feeling of being watched didn't subside for as long as they walked. No sounds that indicated other life except Henry's tromping even with Emma's hyperaware hearing. At least, she couldn't hear anything that sounded like the beast had when it was running or stalking towards her. After too long of paranoid silence Emma began to wonder if perhaps she was going crazy, imaging that she felt something that wasn't there, that maybe more than her head had got messed up when she hit it, but part of her knew. Something wasn't right. She just couldn't say what it was yet.

Henry took them deeper and deep into the woods, whistling a happy tune the whole way, unaware of the potential danger they were in. Trees grew in girth and reached higher than the ones they had passed before, growing close enough together that when Emma looked out all she saw was tree trunks woven between tree trunks. They stood utterly still, statues in a living museum where no leaf dared to fall less it clutter the pristine floor. Everything was painted a brilliant, glowing green beneath the light of the morning sun being filtered through the canopy. Moss made the ground a soft cushion below her travel wary feet and probably felt delightful against the bare soles of Henry's. Emma lifted her face, letting the light and shadow dance across her paler visage roughened from years of chore sin the sun and current stresses. Bees hummed in and out of briars blood red berries dotted, that had somehow managed to grow up through the moss covering the entirety of the forest floor. She inhaled the fruity smell and smiled towards the briars, delighted that there were no longer twigs or leaves for Henry or her feet to step upon.

An incline began to build beneath them that was subtle enough she didn't notice it until her thighs began to burn with fatigue and her breath grew labored. Red's cloak made her sweat beneath it from the extra heat of her exertion and the magic meant to heat her. Beads collected at the edge of her hairline, not enough to roll down her reddening face, but enough to catch wind and cool her slightly. Ahead of her, Henry carried on uphill without showing a sign of discomfort towards the exercise of the walk turned hike. Rather he bounced up the hill, his whistling growing in fever due to his giddiness, and his steps grew faster.

"We're close Emma! My castle is at the top." He threw her an encouraging smile over his shoulder, his hazel eyes alight with a mirth that she couldn't find within herself to reciprocate at the moment. Henry had it easy. His muscles were well tuned to a forest setting whereas Emma, who had grown up on flat farmland, had never before used the muscles needed to climb higher towards the sky. She had never been more homesick than now.

The longer they walked, the higher up they went and Emma could only tell because there was a difference in the air. It was thinner, cleaner, and smelt suitably different than the previous stuff Emma had been sucking in. Now she had to suck in twice as much. Things grew different up here but Emma hardly noticed now that the sweat gathering at the crown of her head had finally began rolling down her forehead. She was ready to holler at Henry for a break but found she didn't need to when the boy stopped in front of her. They had finally reached the top of the incline. Just one look down made Emma's heart forget to beat and her lungs to shrivel up inside her chest.

The tips of her boots peaked out over the edge of a ravine that was nothing more than a sheer drop off into a river raging with white rapids far below. Jagged moss covered rocks created a wall on the other side, not far across from the side Emma and Henry stood on. To Emma's right, a waterfall roared from where it cascaded over the edge of the ravine into the river far, far below. Emma's fear of heights was what gave her heart palpitations but it wasn't the reason for her breath shortage.

For above the aggressive waterfall, over the top of the terrifyingly deep ravine, was Henry's castle. The biggest trees Emma had ever seen grew from massive cracks in the rock walls on both sides of the ravine and the way they grew made it look like the wind was blowing at gale force and had pushed the thick branches to meet over the top of the ravine like a bridge. Each branch twisted and grew into one another, making it hard for Emma to discern one tree from the other. Built within the tree, of the tree, was a round tree house. The walls were interwoven tree branches, thicker at the base of the house, leaving some areas gaping just like a window in a house in the city or a cottage in the country. Teal drapes could be seen hanging on front of them from the outside. There was no door but instead a waning hole on the south face of the home, the side Emma and Henry were facing. Henry's castle didn't look manmade at all, just something that the tree branches had molded after years of growing into one another until they had curled completely around to form a perfect knotted, enclosed circle. The only thing that looked touched by man-touched by Henry-were the loose shingles created to be a makeshift roof, each one looking to be hand carved out of river rock. Ropes hung suspended above her head, pulled taught and ran from inside Henry's castle into the forest. She suspected these were the alarms on his traps like the one she had run into. It was magnificent. And fear inspiring.

"You _live_ in that!?" Emma hissed, gripping Henry's shoulder a little tighter than needed for the comfort of knowing he was still standing beside her and not dead at the bottom of the ravine. She looked at the planks of wood leading up to the "door" of Henry's castle, which had been nailed into the twisted branches. Each one looked like they had been dipped in a dark tar then dusted with sand along the top for grip. The boy was clever, she had to give him that, but crazy.

"Yeah but only in the summer. During the winter and fall seasons it's too dangerous because of the rains and the snow. The water gets higher from run off and hard rain and washes through my castle. It's good though because then I don't have to clean it, nature does it for me." He let out a giggle that she didn't echo. Her stomach was keeping her preoccupied with the way it was rolling from being so close to the edge and from the thought of living inside a knotted tree branch this high above a chasm.

His small hand slipped into hers, warming her palm and fingers. She peered down at his smiling face with a trepid smile of her own. Gently he began pulling her towards the edge where the tree grew out and Henry's plank steps to his castle began.

"C'mon, Emma. It's okay. I do it all the time." The squeeze he gave her hand was meant to reassure her but it only did half its job. Fear for little Henry crept up on Emma, surprising her greatly by the way her heart jumped when she watched him drop himself off the ledge and land onto the knurls nailed in the twisted tree.

He raised his hand to beckon her with wiggling fingers, a charming smile lighting up his features. After a long silence she gave a terse nod and moved to the edge on his command.

"Just sit on your butt-yeah like that-then push. You'll land on your feet. You wont fall. I promise."

Wind swept at her hair from her perch, reminding her that she was very much suspended in air aside from the small ledge of land under her ass. Everything she was feeling about heights and this crazy idea was swirling in her stomach, tempting her to lean over and emit the contents of her stomach rather than try hopping down. Her green eyes flicked to Henry, whom was still standing there with his arms half raised like he was ready to catch her, and thought of how easy the boy had just pushed his natural instincts away to jump towards danger. Just like with the beast that had attacked Emma and was probably following them now. A sigh fell from her lips only to float away on the wind that blew past. If he could do this, a simple leap of faith, then so could she. With a small prayer mumbled under her breath to any god willing to listen, she pushed her palms into the ground for leverage and jumped.

The fall wasn't long-she had jumped higher when she use to climb atop the stables back home and jump into hay piles with Mulan and Red-but this was far scarier than the jumps she had preformed then. Perhaps it was the winds that whispered in her ears while she descended, making her feel as though she'd push one way or the other into the ravine below. Or maybe it was the ravine itself that, she felt, was shouting at her from below to come join it permanently. The real reason was probably just the fact that Emma had a fear of heights. When her feet met the solid, surprisingly sturdy feeling of wood beneath her boots, she couldn't be more pleased. As long as she didn't look down or around.

Henry hooted and clapped loudly for her, "Sweet! You did awesome Emma!"

She gave him a shaky smile, gripping her stomach to force the bile to stay down, "Thanks kid. Lead on, I'll be right behind ya."

He nodded swiftly, the fox ears atop the hat bobbing along with his head, and turned. She watched him look over the edge with a smile, glancing at her to throw her that same smile in an almost teasing way, before he started towards his castle. The steps he took weren't meek nor slow, despite the height. They were galloping until he was sprinting across the length to the doorway of the castle where he stood, waiting for Emma, one arm outstretched. He rolled his wrist to beckon her with his outstretched hand, his other hand was absentmindedly gripping the foxtail.

"Yeah, yeah I'm comin'. You making it look so easy." She grumbled loudly. One foot at a time she worked her way across, much slower than Henry. At times she was tempted to close her eyes as she went, once she did but they had flown back open when Henry yelled at her. For being so small, he sure knew how to sound big.

"You did it!" And she nearly fell off when Henry threw himself at her, wrapping his wiry arms around her waist and burying his face in her midriff. She gave the top of his head a few awkward pats, knocking the fox hat slightly askew.

Henry pulled away from his taller counterpart to readjust his hat to its proper setting, smiling all the while. When he was pleased with how it sat, he turned on his heel and disappeared through the door of the castle. The sounds of banging, clanking, and humming could be heard from the outside. Emma merely stared at the doorway, kneading her lower lip between her teeth in apprehension. She wasn't sure she wanted to go inside, it seemed more daunting than the task of jumping had. Up close she could now see how truly massive it was, aptly named a castle by Henry. If Emma were to stand on her own shoulders, then stand another one of her on those shoulders, she still wouldn't be tall as the castle was before her. Through the holes that branches made Emma could see furs and the glint of metal. To much metal. How many men had Henry found lying dead within the forest to pick up this much metal from their bodies? Faithful, strong men who had gone out to do things with their life, things she had only dreamed of. Her hand reached up out of its own accord to touch one of the swords jutting out of the castle but, before she could touch it, she reeled back at the sound of Henry's voice.

"Emma! C'mon!"

She snapped her eyes to the doorway where Henry had poked his head out, a perplexed look on his face. He jutted his thumb behind his shoulder before disappearing inside again. This time she followed him inside.

Surprisingly enough, with the wind blowing and the water rushing just below, the castle was warm inside. Henry had insulated it well with different kinds of furs that made the walls, and the metal that hung around the walls. Swords, helmets, shields, breastplates, gauntlets, greaves, and chainmail tied around the branches with rope. The floor beneath Emma was made of furs and cushions, plush and comfortable enough for Emma to curl up and sleep on as if it were her downy bed waiting for her at home. At one end of the room the soft flooring was piled higher to form a bed, blankets folded over from the last time Henry had slept in it. Dried meats and berries were piled in a trunk near Henry's bed, not quite overflowing but the boy surely wouldn't run out for at least a month.

Henry himself was standing center of the room, naked to world save for his cotton drawers. In his hands was a long blood red peasant shirt with leather stitching running along its sides, crudely done by someone without any talent or skill for the art, so that it would fit the boy better. Probably Henry himself who had done it. The shirt still hardly fit him for when he put it on, the hemline fell low enough that it was more of a tunic than a shirt. Emma watched him wiggle his way into a pair of cotton trews that appeared to be the only bit of clothing that fit his growing body. They reached just under his knee as they should and fit tight against his hips, leaving only enough room for him to tuck in the peasant shirt. He fiddled with the strings of the peasant shirt, pulling them tight against his sternum and tucked the strings inside so they wouldn't catch on the child size chainmail hauberk he pulled over his head. This hauberk, she noted, had no coif attached to it as most she'd seen which was fine for Henry since he wore his fox hat anyway. He buckled a wide strap of leather around his waist and hooked one strap to it near his hip that went across his back and one shoulder all the way around again. To that strap he clipped the cherry wood crossbow, so that the copper stock of the weapon stuck up between his shoulder blades high enough for him to reach over and pull loose if needed. Lastly he pulled on a burgundy woolen coat with a hood he pulled up over the top of his fox hat. He looked to be an odd mixture of a bard and a rouge because of the hauberk peaking out from under his coat and the bard pouch tied to the belt he had on.

"Well, your lookin' good Kid," She pointed to his bare feet with a disapproving frown, "We still need to get you some shoes."

He looked down, shuffling a bit out of anxiety from her staring, "Okay. I'm gonna pack some stuff real quick. You can take anything you want Emma. I don't mind."

She nodded and already began to inspect the things hanging on the walls with interest even as she spoke, "Make sure you pack a bedroll for yourself and clothes. Lots of food, lots of water. Anything else is up to you, it will be your back not mine."

He mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'yes ma'am' but Emma couldn't really make it out over the sounds he was making. She busied herself by slowly raking her eyes over the things Henry had collected. Some were weapons Emma had never seen any of the guards of this land use before; long polished staffs with a curved blade on one end and a heavy metal knob on the other end. Others were more discernable like the yew long bow she bypassed and a regular standard spear with a diamond shaped head. What finally caught her attention was a sword sheathed in an ornate, leather scabbard depicting swirls near the throat where the blade slid in and the chappe. The guard was a basic metal bar running horizontally against the blade though, interestingly enough, there was a single heart shaped stone-pure black-that was centered within the metal. Everything else about it, aside from the ornate scabbard, was mundane. A wire wrapped hilt, a round pommel with a pointed silver peen block at the end. When she took it off the wall and slid the sword out to inspect it, she noted that the fuller was clean of blood, edges sharp, and polished to perfection. The sword was beautiful and now it was hers.

She strapped the double wrap belt around her boyish hips, loving the way the sheath tapped against her calf and the weight of the blade dug into his thigh. Oh yes, she could get use to this.

"Emma." The blond turned around at the sound of Henry's voice to find the boy standing an arms length away. In his hands he held a pair of plated demi gauntlets, inscribed with pretty swirls and patterns in the black, gossamer metal, and a pair of long leather gloves. He offered them to Emma with a cheeky grin and she readily excepted, always having wanted to wear a pair just like these. The gloves went on first to protect her flesh from chafing under the metal and hard leather of the armor. Then the gauntlets, which she had to hit and pat with each tweak of the straps around her forearm until they fit correctly. They only covered her knuckles-as tradition called with demi gauntlets-and covered her wrist and half of her forearm. The buckles fit snug against the underside of her arm, made of leather like the parts of the gauntlets that the plated metal was sewn into. She flexed her fingers and rolled her wrists, pleased with the amount of dexterity she had even while wearing them. They'd do nicely.

"Thanks Kid." Again she patted him on the head, like she had before when he hugged her, only with more affection this time. Even going as far as to push her fingers under his hat and ruffle his choppy brown hair. He squeaked at the invasion and began slapped at her arm, stepping away at the same time to protect his hat from being knocked off his head. She chuckled but relented and held up her hands to show that she was done.

"Wait," He studied her with pinched brows and narrowed eyes, the tip of his tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth, "You need something else."

"What? Don't I look good?" She gestured towards her garb with a wave of her hand. To her black breeches that closely resembled his trews in style, her white peasant shirt with sweat and blood stains in it, Red's beautiful cape, the newly acquired sword and gauntlets, and her boots that came up to her knees.

He giggled boyishly and shook his hand. His eyes cut across the room towards the kite shield he had brandished when he had saved her from the beast and tilted his head, making a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. Quicker than she thought possible the boy raced across the room to grab it bring it back to her, motioning for her to hold her arm out. Once she commanded to his silent demand, he began the task of strapping the shield to her arm with practiced hands.

The shield itself was boarded with steal plating and heavy on her arm, pulling at her shoulder and the ball joint beneath the muscle. She wasn't accustomed to it but she found she enjoyed the feeling. On the face of the shield there was a beautiful, intricate swan painted with different shades of whites. Behind the swans proud head was a shadow of a wreath that glimmered with golden webbings hiding beneath the smoky gray of the paint used. Before, she hadn't noticed it when she had been hanging upside down bleeding from a head injury, but now that she did, she found herself falling very much in love with it.

"There," Henry tapped the buckles of the straps and stepped back, beaming, "Now you look like a real knight!"

Emma ran her leather covered fingertips along the top of the shield, smiling at it fondly, "Thank you Henry."

He waved it off but she knew he could tell how much it meant to her. She gave him an equally fond smile and knelt before him to pulling him into a one armed hug, Red's cape engulfing all of him except for his head that was resting against the curve of her shoulder.

"Oh," He mumbled and pulled back to touch her head softly, "Your dressing is coming off." His lip poked out again when he tried to concentrate hard on pulling the linen wrappings away from her head so that he could rewrap it but, once he had it all off, he paused. A surprised gasp fell away from his slack mouth.

"What?" She reached up to touch the spot on her head that had been wounded and felt nothing. Nothing wrong, there was no split in her skull, no scab, no wound at all. Just hair and warm scalp.

They grinned at the same time.

"Cool." Emma mumbled, kneading her fingertips against her scalp lightly where the wound had previously been.

"Double cool," He dropped the linens onto the floor and reached up to grip his foxtail hanging over his shoulder, "I bet it was the stuff that book told me to put on it."

She nodded, "Your probably right. Do you still have that stuff? We should bring it with us. Just in case."

He patted the bards pouch tied to his belt and tapped his index finger against his temple, "Already thought of that."

"Good on you," She stood and reached down to grip the hilt of the sword poking out from Red's cape, rubbing her thumb in circles around the peen block as she thought, "We should probably go before it gets dark. You all packed Kid?"

He nodded vehemently, knocking his hood back from the activity, "Yup, yup. All ready."

She flashed him a crooked half grin that was something her mother would slap her upside the head for because she said it was her up-to-no-good face, "Well Kid, let's go find us a lost Queen."

**Next chapter will introduce Regina to this story. Hope this chapter didn't disappoint to much! Let me know what you guys think. G'night everything! It's one again. Stayed up way to late. Dulce sue****ñ****os. **


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"I win!"

"No way! You cheated! Cheater!"

Henry's loud giggled filled the clearing they were walking through and grew higher when Emma reached over to prod at his sides. The pile of rocks had had hugged to his chest tumbled back to the ground from the wiggling he was doing trying to escape her strong pokes.

Three or more hours into their journey, with the sun at its highest, Emma had grown unbelievably bored. Before she had been keeping herself amused with the beauty of the forest around her that continued to change the further Henry took them. She had pulled her sword out a couple of times to swing around for the fun of it, chopping reeds in halves and pointing it threateningly at trees. Henry had finally asked her what was wrong after she continued to sigh loudly and stomp the heels of her boots into the ground and when she explained her boredom, he had suggested they play a game. A game morphed into a full on battle between the two. They had collected as many rocks as they could carry and while they walked they searched the trees for holes within. Once they spotted one they would stop to throw rocks at the holes and the first one to land a rock inside, won that round. Emma had only won once and she was fast running out of rocks to throw. Henry had no problem with landing a rock into the holes after one or two tries. Emma claimed he was cheating because of the fact that he had grown up in a forest and she didn't. Henry had only chuckled and tossed a rock at her that bounced off her shield when she held it up to deflect.

"How much further do we have to go? I'm getting sick of trees. I don't know how you can stand living out here." Emma kicked at one of Henry's fallen rocks and watched it bounce until it slapped into a tree trunk. She glanced over at him to see him with one arm buried in his pack, rummaging around with a concentrated look on his face.

"Well," Finally he pulled his hand out holding two thick pieces of dried meat and held one out for Emma to take, the other he immediately began chewing on, " 's not so bad. I've never really had anyone to begin with so being out here all by myself isn't much of a change. The animals keep me company and the seasons keep me from getting bored. I always have something to do. I hunt so I have to skin the animal and string it up before I can cut it up for preserving. I carve so that I'll have roofs and trap triggers. You just have to look at it like that. If I keep doing all this, then I'll survive another day. Winter won't eat me up with the cold and summer won't boil me alive. Fall won't drown me in leaves and spring can't color me red when new, hungry animals think I'm a tasty treat." He shrugged at her like it was the most common of things to say. She chewed on her spiced jerky as they walked in silence, mulling Henry over in her already overworked brain.

"Your kind of amazing Kid. And your food is really fucking good." To prove her point, she hummed a pleasured sound around her mouthful of dried meat when the fat melted against her tongue and the spice offset the gamey flavor of whatever meat this was. Henry stared up at her with his brows pinched, chewing quietly.

"What does fucking mean? I've never heard that-Emma!?"

Emma began choking on her food and had to stop walking just so she could catch her breath. The half chewed ball of jerky fell out of her mouth onto the forest floor with a gross squishing noise. Henry was immediately by her side, patting her back lightly while also trying to take the lid off the canteen he had hung around his neck.

"Kid-" She began but was cut off when Henry pushed the mouth of the canteen against her lips, tipping it back for cold, clear water to run down her throat. She savored the way it cooled her aching throat. After she took a few generous gulps, she wiped the drops of water clinging to her lower lip onto Red's cloak and handed the canteen back to Henry.

"Kid," She spoke again in a much less hoarse voice which seemed to ease away the worried frown wrinkling Henry's cheeks, "You shouldn't say that word. Like, ever. Again. In fact, don't even bother remembering I said it okay?"

Henry nodded like he understood what she was trying to tell him but she could tell by the crease between his two brown brows that he didn't. So she tried again by kneeling in front of him and resting her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes.

"It's a really bad word. Folks frown on kids and ladies using that kind of language, you understand?"

"I understand Emma," but the crease was still there, "But if ladies and kids aren't suppose to use it, why did you? You're a lady."

Now Emma was laughing. Laughing so hard that she couldn't remain on her knee in front of the boy and had fallen onto the ground, gripping her sides as stitches began to build in pressure the longer she went on. Henry stared down at her trying to comprehend what was so funny.

"Oh kid," She tried to control her laughter long enough to speak but couldn't force down another bout of loud chuckles, "Kid. I ain't no lady. I'm hardly even a woman! I wear men's clothes and I curse and I drink and I kiss woman!"

"That makes no sense to me Emma."

Henry let out an aggravated huff, clearly not amused by Emma's laughter, and plopped onto the round next to her writhing body. He watched with his chin in her palm as she continued to laugh, muttering things to herself that made her laugh harder and roll around more. After she showed no signs of stopping he grew tired of her laughter and hopped to his feet to scout ahead. There wasn't a single area of these woods he hadn't already covered but he needed something to do that didn't involve listening to Emma laugh at his ignorance of city customs.

As he walked he let his senses melt into those of the forest, becoming a part of his surroundings. He could feel the swaying of the trees in his lungs as he breathes in their fresh scents, he could feel the vibrations of a fawn sprinting far off through the soles of his feet. He heard and felt everything that happened here because this place was his kingdom and he was the king. Little Henry the Orphan may gain a laugh or two for not knowing things but here in this place, no one would be able to do what he does. There was a man Henry had met when he was a toddler and he had followed his beloved fox into these woods, that had taught Henry everything he now knew. The man was tall with a thick beard and draped in furs, smelling like earth and animal when he had embraced Henry and swept him into his thick, burly arms. He had called himself the Huntsmen and he had called Henry his little Jungle Boy. They had spent 5 solid years of Henry's young life together and the Huntsmen had loved Henry like a brother, never a child. Huntsmen was always to rough and demanding of Henry for him to be any kind of father but Henry had loved him the same. Even at a young age Henry could tell that Huntsmen had been so hard with Henry because he had cared enough for the little boy that he wanted Henry to learn quickly so that the boy could survive. He taught Henry how to read, how to speak, how to hunt, how to skin, how to carve, how to speak to the forest and how to listen to the forest. How to fear and how to love. Everything Henry had done was attributed to what the Huntsmen had done for Henry. Then, out of nowhere, after 5 years of being a team, the Huntsmen had just disappeared and Henry had never seen him again. At the time, when Henry was no older than 7 years old, he couldn't fathom why Huntsmen would just leave him like that so he had hated the man with everything inside of him. After years of nothing but the forest for company Henry had finally forgiven the Huntsmen and now, now he had Emma. He was afraid she'd leave him like his Huntsmen brother had but he figured, if he did well and helped Emma then maybe the woman would let Henry go with her wherever she went. He could only hope.

Something startled him. The bottoms of his feet began to hum from a vibration flowing through the forest floor. Heavy booted footsteps in the distance that weren't Emma's and was accompanied by many, many steps of horses. His head lolled from side to side as he roved his eyes all around. Faintly he could see black blobs where Emma and Henry had been just a few hours back. A squadron flying the King Leopold's banner. Normally Henry didn't fear travels, he merely hid within a tree or underbrush to watch them pass, but something in his gut told him he should fear these men. He cut his eyes to where Emma was still laying on the ground, holding her stomach, but thankfully no loner laughing. Completely unaware to the intruders invading his kingdom.

His feet took control before his brain could command them to run for the blond woman. He wasn't used to running with the weight of a hauberk sitting on his chest and shoulders but he pushed through it, knowing he needed to get to Emma before they saw her.

"Emma!" He hissed her name between his teeth, trying to whisper but not really managing. She lifted her head to flash a lazy smile that melted the instant she saw his face.

Emma had been lying there daydreaming while Henry had been wandering around. Her mind had drifted to Regina's journal and she couldn't stop herself from picturing what the Queen looked like. If she was nearly as beautiful as her handwriting was then Emma may have a hard time controlling herself around the Queen. She had been pondering the Queen's eye color when Henry had jostled her. He looked ashen and manic though she couldn't understand why.

"Whoa Kid, what's gettin' at you?" She sat up slowly, inspecting Henry as he threw on his pack and shoved Emma's at her. Instead of answering her with words, Henry took her face between his hands and tilted her head to her right.

"Henry what-" but then she saw it and her voice died within her throat. The kings men-probably thirty of them in number-on horses and in full suits of armor heading straight for them. At this distance Emma couldn't really make out much of them except that leading the armed squad was none other than Gibson the Queens personal guardsmen. Back for his vengeance no doubt.

"Shit, shit, shit! Henry we need to move. Now!" She jumped to her feet and began yanking at Henry's arm, trying to drag him after her, but the preteen wouldn't budge. He dug his heels into the pliable earth and pulled right back until his arm came loose from her grip.

"Henry-"

"Emma we can't outrun horses. We need to hide," He glanced over his shoulder at the men encroaching then looked at the tree beside them, "Can you climb?"

She followed his gaze to the tree and, catching on, nodded. He gave a grateful sigh and motioned for her to go first but she shook her head, cupping her hands to indicate she wanted to help him up. They didn't argue any further because they didn't have any time though Henry wanted too and Emma would have fought him back. Without any other sounds or gestures, Henry ran at Emma and, when she caught the bottom of his foot mid stride, he was launched into the air. She watched him grasp onto a branch and pull himself into the tree, disappearing into the leaves. Only a few seconds passed before she saw him reach his hand down for her to grab onto, which she did, and let him help her up into the tree. The traction on her boost was all but gone so she struggled for a few seconds to long before she finally hauled herself onto a branch. Not a moment to soon either.

Below them, Gibson led his men into the clearing that Emma and Henry had just been residing in. He was dismounted, holding the reins to his mount, so that he could look around the area. Behind him, his men circled to keep the horses from cooling down just incase their leader wanted them to continue on. But Gibson seemed pleased with this spot and let out a low grunt of approval the men had been waiting for. They all dismounted and began unloading their saddles of bedrolls and trussed game hens already prepped for cooking. They were setting up camp. Right next to the tree Emma and Henry were hiding in.

"Shit!" Emma whispered for only herself to hear but, somehow, Henry had heard her too and leaned over to grab her hand. She positive he didn't know the word but he could hear the distress in her voice so he had sought to comfort her. Good kid, this one. He climbed from the branch he was on to sit on Emma's behind her that way they could whisper even quieter than before.

"What do we do Emma?"

She shook her head, watching the soldiers below begin to build a fire and roll a barrel of mead around, "We'll have to wait Kid."

"For how long?"

"I dunno yet. I'll let you know. Just…stay quiet and listen for anything useful."

She felt him nod against her back because of their close proximity but didn't really acknowledge it. Her entire focus was on the camp being made below.

The fire was going now and the spit with a line of trussed game hens was already sizzling above its heat, sending the smell of seasoned meat spiraling into the air above it for Henry and Emma to breath in. Her stomachs grumbling reminded her that the only thing she had eaten today was Henry's jerky. Several men had already began drinking the mead, clanking their cups together and speaking loudly to one another even though they were mere feet away. Others were already tucking themselves into bedrolls to catch sleep they had presumably missed by riding through the night. Emma could only guess but it made sense seeing as they were here, led by Gibson, and Emma had been at least 2 days ahead of them. Their fire haired leader was leaned against the very tree Emma sat in, speaking in hushed tones with one of his companions. His map man apparently. Still, from her position, Emma could hear every word.

"Your positive we're close?" This was Gibson. His voice was as gruff as she remembered but filled with much more agitation. Just as hostile however.

"Oh yes Sir! I'm sure. Very sure. We are a days ride away if you count in the stops we'll need to take to rest the horses and your men." The map man was not a man at all but a boy that could barely be in his teen years. Older than Henry but not by much.

"Good. Very good. You've come in handy as it turns out. By this time tomorrow I'll have the Queen in my possession and I'll be off to collect from the King. I'll ask for all the gold I can carry and then some. I'll never have to wear this good for nothing suit of armor again nor listen to every command that bullshit King gives me! I'll be rich!"

Emma's breath caught. Gibson knew where the Queen was. He knew exactly where to find her and he was going to take her before Emma got the chance. Something possessive tugged at Emma's heart and nearly made her growl if she hadn't surprised the urge by biting in her lower lip, hard. Gibson wasn't going to take her Queen. Not before Emma got the chance. Her blazing eyes landed on the map the boy was looking over, noting the prominent marks made on it. Marking where to find the Queen.

"Henry, we need to get that map. And steal a horse. Can you ride a horse?" She felt him shake his head against her shoulder, "That's alright. I can hold onto you. But we need that map. Any ideas?"

She felt him shift behind her, didn't hear him because she was as silent as death, before he pressed something into her hand. It was a small pouch full of something granule and heavy.

"What's this?"

"Sleeping powder." And then she felt him shift until he was swinging himself higher into the branches. He moved swiftly and silently with ease until he was perched on the branch that hung directly over the fire. And the cooking hens. He held his hands out, gesturing for her to throw the pouch to him. She nodded and braced herself with one hand to keep from falling and used the other to toss the pouch up. It sailed through the leaves, narrowly missing a branch, and landed directly in Henry's waiting hands. She watched him open it and sprinkle pinched of it above the cooking food below. The stuff wasn't visible so Emma couldn't be sure if it was coating the hens or not but Henry knew when enough had gone on. He gave her a thumbs up and leaned back against the trunk of the tree to wait.

And wait they did. Soldiers grew impatient for the hen to finish cooking, clearly starved from the relentless ride their captain had forced them to endure. Once the man who had been in charge of turning the spit over the fire gave the order that everything was done, they tore into the food like a pack of ravenous dogs. Even Gibson ate mouthfuls of the food, driblets of grease rolling down his chin to mix with the ale she swallowing between bites. They made quick, jerking movements when they tore meat off the bones before swallowing mostly un-chewed food. Fascinated, Emma watched as their jerks became slower until one by one they slumped over onto the hard ground. Passed out cold.

Emma gave Henry a wicked smile before hopping out of the tree, landing only a few feet away from a slumbering Gibson. He had fallen asleep with his mouth open, food still sitting on his tongue for anyone alive to see. She had to stamp down her disgust at seeing it. Henry jumped out soon after her and motioned towards the sleeping boy with the map. She nodded and went to collect a horse they could both ride. None of the horses pleased her much except for the one tall, shining black warhorse with a solid black saddle and bridal. His brown eyes held an intelligent glint that Emma felt herself drawn too. Slowly so as not to spook it Emma reached her hand out to softly run her fingers through his crimped main. The horse gave a soft snort and pushed his neck harder against Emma's touch, hoping that she would give him a nice scratch. Which she did, with a smile.

Henry sneaked up behind her and tapped her shoulder. She glanced at him, pleased to see him holding the map, and gestured for him to climb in the saddle. He did so quietly, with Emma's help. The horse hardly blinked an eye at the riders clamoring onto him even though they weren't his original rider. Emma gave his chorded neck a gentle pat for that. She sat behind Henry in the saddle and held an arm around the boy to keep his small body tucked against hers, and used the other to guide the horse with the reins. He responded well to her, turning when she told him too, and slowly walking away from the camp.

"Henry, can you read a map?"

The boy already had the map open and was looking it over with interest, "Yeah. I know where this is Emma but they have the long way marked. We should go this way. See?" He trailed his finger along the path he wanted her to take and tapped his finger against the circle where the Queen presumably resided.

"Great. I'm gonna make this horse run now so put the map away and hold onto the saddlehorn there. Try not to fall and shout the directions for me 'cause I doubt I'll be able to hear you over the wind. You ready?"

He tucked the folded up map into the belt of his hauberk and gave a small nod. Emma squeezes her thighs against the horse's flanks and jabbed the tips of her boots against it's strong ribcage. The black warhorse gave a loud whinny before ascending into a speedy gallop. Emma had grown up riding pitiful carthorses, not a gallant warhorse like this. The plates of armor protecting his neck and his head, clanked as he ran, fog crawling up the nose plate with each great huff of air the horse exerted. Wind swept at her hair, pulling at it furiously and burning her cheeks and the tips of her ears but she ignored it. She ignored everything except Henry's shouted directions and leading the horse as safely as she could. She maneuvered him between trees and across a shallow stream but the horse was a smart, well bred, well trained beast that ate up land with every stride and knew better than to injure himself. Much smarter than the daft carthorses Emma was use too. She loved that she could trust this horse to ride well and that the horse could trust her to lead him safely. Gibson was sure going to be pissed when he woke up, if he could figure out who had stolen his map and his horse.

The sun above them began to descend behind the mountains as they rode on, the only tell tale sign to the blond flying across land that any real time was passing. Against her knees she could feel the beast of a horse begin to breath harder, laboring with every breath, but she could tell he had a little more in him so she rode him on. Until Henry pointed to an alcove of trees up ahead and told her to slow down. Once the horse slowed to a walk, both Emma and Henry jumped from its mighty back to search around.

Nothing stood out. No chimney smoke, no cottage, no sign of a life at all. Just a clearing in a ring of trees that Emma probably wouldn't have been able to find if she didn't have Henry. Nothing at all.

She let out a frustrated shriek and kicked at the grass, "Fuck! It was suppose to be here!"

Henry gave her big, apologetic eyes but said nothing. Instead he went over to chat with the horse while it grazed on grass and give it water from his canteen. She huffed and pulled her sword from its sheath, needing something to vent her frustrations without taking it out on the kid. She approached an apple tree and began hacking at it with vicious arcs of the wickedly sharp blade. Sweat began to drip from her hairline into her vision but she ignored it and continued chopping at the tree, screaming with each bite the blade took of the bark. Apples fell from the tree and hit the grass around her with soft sounds and she began chopping those. Cold juice flew from them and hit her cheek, some her lips. She licked it away and continued her assault to the tree.

Until she felt a petite hand grip her sword arm and yank it back hard enough that her sword came loose and hit the grass. Chest heaving, Emma spun and was more than prepared to kill whoever had dared interrupt her but the anger and the words swirling inside of her settled instantly. Standing before her was the most beautiful woman Emma had ever laid eyes on and her heart recognized the woman instantly even though Emma had never met her once before. Semi long hair fell just past the woman's ears, dark brown strands of it that curled slightly against the curve of her jaw. Her dark eyes glimmered with a mixture of emotions, the most prominent one anger, and her scarlet lips were pulled tight into a sneer of utter distain. The very same hand that had once touched Emma now curled around the dip of her hip, her nails biting into the fabric of her dress. The dress wasn't skin tight, nor was it loose, just tight enough to show of the wonderful, glorious curves the woman had beneath the gray-blue fabric. Emma fought to breath.

"Just who do you think you are and what deranged mind do you possess that makes you think that it is alright for you to hack away at my apple tree with that sword of yours?" And gods, her voice. Granted that it was simply dripping with malice and annoyance but the low tone of it was pure sex that washed over Emma's senses and set her alight.

"Regina…" Emma breathed out with much more reverence than she intended. Gods, what was wrong with her? She didn't know this woman at all but she was acting like a love sick teenager and a dog in heat at the same time. Not to mention her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest.

The Queen's perfectly shaped eyebrows rose high and her lips parted slightly in shock, her hands falling away from her hips. Beautiful brown eyes flickered over Emma's face before looked over her shoulder to inspect Henry who was hugging the horse around his neck. They softened just a moment at the sight of a giggling Henry doting on the warhorse but, when they rounded back to Emma, they hardened back to cold, brown stone.

"How do you know my name?"

Emma opened her mouth to respond but snapped it shut when she heard the thundering of horses and shouts of angry men. They weren't to loud, meaning the men were far off, but they were drawing nearer and they were angry. And awake.

"No time for that, we need to hide your Majesty." Emma closed her fingers around the satin skin of the Queen's wrist and began lightly tugging her towards Henry, trying desperately to ignore the sparks lighting up her palm and jolting her heart.

**Dun, dun, dun! What was Regina doing in the middle of a forest without a house? Roughing it. Nope! You'll see! Two updates in one day for you guys, gimmi some love for that. I knew you wanted your Regina time very soon so I decided to power through it and ignore all my work. Fuuuuuuck….whelp. G'night all! **


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Unhand me you brute! Are you deaf or just plain stupid!? I _said _let go of me!" Regina tugged and tugged at the grip this stranger had on her but it was all to no avail. This woman was deceitfully strong underneath those clothes of hers. A subtle string was beginning to form in her senses from all the tugging and her flesh was reddening enough that she could see it even in the impending darkness.

To think, just an hour prior, Regina had been happily curled up on a fur rug in front of a fireplace reading an ancient novel she had found in her Daddy's old cottage, not a care in the world other than the small grumbling of her stomach. Regina had been living in it, semi-happy despite her all consuming loneliness, for months now and had seen no sign of Leopold's men which pleased her. She had been quick in her escape of the Summerland, knowing exactly where her destination was and the quickest route to it. Once she had arrived at this old summer home she could recall from her earliest years of childhood, she had cast a cloaking shield around it to make it invisible to all but her. Earlier, when her stomach trumped her excitement with her novel, she had succumbed to its whining and left to home to go pick a few apples from her tree for a nice apple crumble after dinner. To her horror, she had seen an enigma swinging a sword at her tree with what appeared to be a malicious attempt at cutting it down. Fury that had been bottled up inside her during the entire duration of her life in the castle since marrying Leopold had festered to the surface and nearly been taken out on the blond in the form of harsh, dangerous magic. Regina could still taste the words on her tongue that, had she spat the out, would have snapped the woman's spine and imploded her skull. A nasty death spell that her mother Cora had forced her to learn and Regina had shoved into the recesses of her mind, never to be seen or thought of again until that moment. Regina had never wanted to learn magic at all, let alone learn the terrible dark side of the art but Cora had beat Regina into submission and, begrudgingly, the girl learned it. Though she never practiced it unless Regina was backed into a corner, terrified, with no way out. Or if an enigma in black showed up, hacking at her tree, and did something to Regina that the woman couldn't fathom.

As she had. That woman, that insufferable, manhandling, dense woman, had done something to her that disturbed Regina. She had shown up and touched Regina's heart. The witch inside Regina wanted to blame magic, to look at it from the mystical point of view and lash out with magic of her own. Regina the woman had not agreed because magic didn't make hearts shiver in anticipation nor did magic make Regina recognize strangers in a deep way. Yet all those things did happen and it baffled the Queen. It terrified and angered Regina because she didn't know how to react or even what was going on. All she knew was that she was being dragged into the forest with the sun setting at the backs and nothing but a boy and a horse to follow them. What was more disturbing still was that there was a sliver of Regina-this tiny part living inside her- that was _excited_ to let this stranger kidnap her.

Naturally, however, Regina never gave into to the things that her soul longed for because it had always led to disaster in her life so she fought this woman tooth and nail. She fought because she had a nice, warm, cozy cottage waiting for her with a fire roaring inside of it and a novel dog-eared to the chapter she was on. She fought because she could hear the shouts of men and the sounds of horses being pushed to gallop behind them. She fought because that boy in his fox hat, leading that massive, beautiful horse, was smiling at Regina in such a touching way that her dead heart quivered with life and her own insides curled in on themselves knowing what they had lost. Mostly, she fought, because that strong grip on her wrist was sending lines of fire up her veins and melting the ice incasing her heart like there wasn't years upon years of capsulation applied to ease the burn of torment from unloving mothers, dead fathers, lost children, and sadistic husbands.

Regina Mills did not do feelings and this woman was shooting raw feelings right into her veins and, like any form of toxin introduced to the bloodstream, it was taking control of her strength and reducing it to nothing real fast.

"You stupid girl, let go of me this instant! I command you, as your Queen-"

The woman whirled on Regina and was within inches of her face between one blink of her eyes through another. Little rackets of feelings sizzled her nerves, turning her knees weak and driving the oxygen straight from her lungs in one whoosh that fanned across the blonde's lips not to far away from her own. Regina's body hummed with an excitement she had never felt before and it was for that very reason that Regina glared at the girl and stuck the woman's sternum with the ridge of her palm to push her away.

"Did you not have a mother to teach that it is beyond rude to stand within another woman's personal space or do you have such disregard to the social standard of society that you cease to care?" Regina gave the smirking woman a withering look, hoping and wishing upon all the starts getting ready to glint above her head that it would make this woman shrivel up at her feet like all of her husbands pathetic followers did when they received this very same look. Instead of doing as Regina wished, the woman had the audacityto chuckle!

"Fuck me if you aren't the most feisty woman that ever lived! I'm trying to save your life here, so if her highness would be so inclined as to cooperate then that would really just make my whole fucking night! Thanks so much!" Regina was shocked to silence at hearing such vulgarity spill form the mouth of a fellow female with such an ease, as if it were perfectly alright for that kind of talk. In the presence of the Queen no less! Regina narrowed her eyes at the woman, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides to stop the flow of wild magic crawling just beneath the flesh of her fingertips. Oddly, this woman had a strange effect on Regina's magic and it perturbed the brunette enough to throw her slightly off kilter. That was a testament in and of itself for no one could throw Regina Mills, Queen of the Summerlands, a strong Mills Witch, off kilter. Until now.

"Emma?" Both woman turned their attention to the boy running her fingers across the plates of armor decorating the warhorse's chorded neck, his big hazel eyes staring up at the two adults in such an innocent and inquisitive way.

"Yeah Kid?" So her name was Emma. Figures she would have such a stupid, beautifully fitting name.

"I thought you said that was a bad word and that we shouldn't say it."

Regina made a hum in the back of her throat and folded her arms, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Emma glared at her for it but the glare softened when she rounded her swirling eyes back to the boy. Interesting.

"Your right Henry. I did say that. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you once we get away from those bastards, how about that?"

Henry beamed and nodded vigorously, the tail attached to his hat bouncing against his chest from his excitement, "Oh yes please! Another round of rocks?"

Emma flashed the boy a grin and Regina was aggravated to notice that her heart skipped a beat at the sight, "Your on Kid."

"Pardon," Regina held a hand up, tension forming between her brows and pulled her lips into an annoyance induced purse, "but would you two be so kind as to remember that I am indeed standing right and that I am not something or someone to be forgotten as though I'm a mere shadow in the background?" "Ah-" Emma attempted to speak but Regina's hand held firm and her eyes cut to the blond to give her a warning through a flash of purple swirling around her irises. Both beings present gasped which pleased Regina enough to let a smirk mold her lips.

"No. I'll speak and you'll listen. Is that understood?" Both nodded and Regina made an approving hum, "Good. Perhaps neither of you realize this but I am not about to go tromping through the woods with two complete strangers when the sun is setting and there are guards I'm sure my husband has sent after me mucking about. To be perfectly honest, I'm in no mood to deal with them nor am I in any state to deal with the two of you. I don't know who you are or who you think you plan to be by, and I quote this from pure sarcasm, 'saving my life' so I think it would be best for the both of you to explain yourself this instant or I may just give into my urges." To exemplify her meaning behind urges, Regina let her eyes flash again, brighter this time and was pleased when she received the desired effect. Henry squeaked from fear and moved to hide himself behind the massive horse while Emma audibly gulped, her stupid (beautiful) eyes widening. Regina preened over her ability to perform so well when in actuality Regina was terrified of the men bearing down on them, terrified of these two strangers because of what they were doing to her heart, and knowing that she would never even consider using her magic to hurt either one of them. Especially the boy. She just wanted to put the fear in them to get what she needed and she needed information. Quickly.

Emma glanced over at Henry and the boy glanced back, the two of them sharing a silent conversation that Regina wasn't privy too. Much to her ever growing annoyance.

"Well," She snapped her fingers impatiently to break up whatever it was going on between them, "out with it. Quickly if you'd please. I have no intension of letting those men catch me but from the sounds of it they are neigh upon us so now rather than later would be optimal."

"'Kay so short version," Emma ran her hand through her hair nervously and Regina was bewildered to find herself growing jealous of that hand for it being any other except hers not blessed with the ability to freely touch such soft looking hair, "I'm on this quest to become a knight and a bunch of other people want the same thing I do-not to be a knight I mean but, ah, to claim the reward from the King. Anyway, this guard guy, Gibson-"

Regina's eyes grew dangerously cold and she bared her teeth in a terrifyingly beautiful snarl that both Henry and Emma stepped away from, "_Gibson!_ That imbecile, idiotic, pathetic excuse of a man is still working at the palace after I asked Leopold to fire him for what he did!? Damn Leopold's ego!" Regina's hand flew to her face, her thumb and forefinger gripping the bridge of her nose as she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to quell the rage burning inside her. Gibson was actually a cousin of the King's so of course it was only natural that Leopold had assigned Gibson with the task of being Regina's personal guard. And sense he was Regina's personal guard, he was with Regina constantly and therefore she was witness to his frequent drunkenness and had to be partial to his every drunken ramble. When he had babbled about a girl he had taken his libraries of against the poor girls will, Regina had seen red. She had stomped herself into the King's personal chambers and demanded he kill Gibson where the man stood but Leopold had been lax, of course. All he had done was strip Gibson and flog the man so lightly, men who had really been beat sniggered and called Gibson many gender derogative names for not being able to stand a real whipping. Leopold had told her that he had fired Gibson but apparently that was not the case. Of course he wouldn't, not that Regina really thought of it, because Gibson was a direct relation to Leopold and how would it look if he had to turn his own flesh and blood away for misdeeds? Curse all the men of that family.

Emma glanced at Henry nervously, hoping to seek comfort from the boy but found none due to the boy's hiding behind the horse, "Ah, right. So anyway, I stole y…ah, something from Gibson. So that it would help me find you. I don't know how, but he found another way to locate you because Henry and I saw him with a bunch of other guys in the woods with a map and were coming after you. So Henry knocked them out with sleeping powder like a real stud," at hearing that, Henry reappeared to puff his chest out proudly and Regina found herself feeling a strange, misplaced bout of affection towards the child, "and we stole the map and Gibson's horse so that we could find you first. Fuck knows what-oh sorry Henry. Who knows what they would have done if they caught you first? So we came and now we need to hide before they catch us. And we need to do it fast!"

Regina hummed in thought as she digested everything she heard. Granted Emma was hiding a critical part of that story from her, Regina could feel it, but she didn't have much choice now. If Gibson really was after her then it was imperative he, of all people, is not the one to catch her. The scars lining his back form his flogging were symbols of the vindictive feelings he had for her and she knew he would beat her within an inch of her life before he dragged her back to Leopold. Hearing that Leopold had put a reward out for her capture was not a surprise but it was news to her and unsettling news at that. This would make her disappearing all that much more difficult.

She had absolutely no intension of going back to Leopold only for her to withstand a loveless marriage everyday of her life and to feel fear suffocate her every night that Leopold brutally forced himself inside of her. Yet she knew these two were here to collect her for a reward and Regina wanted to flee without them, to leave them here while she ran to her homely cottage awaiting her, but Regina couldn't bring herself to be that cruel. Oh, she had tried. On many separate occasions had she tried to be cruel, just like her mother taught her and wanted her to be, but Regina couldn't bring herself to that point. Something about it was so unsettling inside of her and it made her feel like grease covered filth. Sure, she was a wonderful actress that could put up a lovely front with the most convincing of masks, but on the inside, truly, Regina was not that evil. So she knew, in that instant, that if she left the boy and the woman here that Gibson would extract his revenge for the theft in various ways until he killed Emma and the boy just for the hell of it. She also knew, she wouldn't, couldn't, let that happen to them even if they were here to ruin her. With a sigh, she lowered her hand and smoothed her palm over the front of her dress more for the reason of comforts found in habits than because there was a wrinkle in the fabric.

"Alright, here is what is going to happen. I'm going to take you both with me back to my home where you will be safe and hidden from all prying eyes. I'll keep you until I'm sure the danger has passed and then I will let you go but you will be leaving without me. Do not think for one moment that you can force me on any kind of journey you have planned to take me back to Leopold's castle. I will not go. Hear me again so that it is _very _clear, _I will not go_. Is that clear?" Regina glared solely at Emma, the person she really meant the words for.

Emma glared right back, not pleased with the situation but, when a loud shout sounded close by, she nodded. Henry was nodding as much as he was shaking from the fear of Gibson and his men being so close. Regina fought her never-been-used motherly instincts to coddle the boy and tell him not to worry. Such a strange thing for Regina to feel. Something that was in likeness to a phantom pain in a lost limb.

She cleared her throat for the purpose of pushing down the emotion lodging in her throat rather than to garner their attention, like they assumed, "Excellent. Follow me then and watch your step in the dark. I'd hate for you to fall and knock yourself unconscious on something Emma, dear. However would you fair then? Henry and I certainly couldn't haul your gait clear back to my cottage on our own. Well, we'd just have to use the horse to drag you." Regina flashed a wicked at the blond who huffed, glared, and turned her head away like petulant child being scolded for wrongdoings. The adorable frown on her face stroked the fire burning beneath the icy heart of the Queen and Regina didn't like it.

"Whatever Queeny. You may think your all cool right now with your glowy eye trick and all but you are coming back with us whether you like it or not."

"We shall see dear. We shall see."

Emma huffed from behind Regina as they began walking back towards Regina's butchered apple tree. The brunette paused beside it to touch the sap covering wounds in the bark with a reverent caress of her fingertips and let the simmering magic buzzing in her veins leak into the tree to heal it. She ignored the sounds of the two strangers behind her gasp and awe at the scene because she didn't want them to see the devotion in her eyes for this inanimate object she had come to love so dearly. They were strangers and Regina was not about to let strangers see her with her mask off and her walls down. For if they did, they would ask questions or worse, try to console her, and those things always led to confessions. Confessions about how this tree was the only joy in her entire childhood, the only gift she had ever received and from a stranger at that because her father would never go against Cora's wishes and Cora wished for Regina to never receive anything in the form of a gift. Once the tree was back to its previous state of health, she gave the bark one last light stroke before continuing on.

To the people following Regina, they probably assumed she was walking right back into ring of trees lining the clearing her tree grew within but to Regina, she saw home and the moment she stepped through the invisible barer cloaking the cottage, she knew they could see it too. In terms of grandeur, this cottage wasn't much given that it was from a time when her father Henry Mills was not a rich man and could only afford to built a small place, but it had always been home in Regina's heart. Even after they moved from it into the large manor with stables and hired hands running all over the place after her father became a rich man, all thanks to Cora's magic. This place, with a waterwheel on the side of it churning clear blue water constantly, and its thatched roof of birch wood, a round door painted dark grey, and its two windows in the front, was undeniably Regina's only home. Her true safe haven. A lovely smile bloomed across her face at the sight of it.

"Henry," His eyes widened slightly at the drastic change in tone Regina's voice held, before it had been harsh and scary but now it was sweeter than honey cakes and it sounded like home, "You may tie your horse up over there. Make sure you leave him room to move about and graze but not so slack he can pull it loose. When your finished, wash your hands over there at the wheel. There is a bucket with soap and a hand towel in it. Use that. Emma, if you would please, wash your hands as well, then I may be kind enough to feed you both. But I won't serve anyone with dirty hands!"

She wanted to smile at their wide eyes and the flabbergasted looks they were giving her but she withheld the urge, instead biting the tender skin of the inside of her lip. Nodding at them both, she turned on her heels to strut inside her home, waving her hand to open the door and waving it again to close it.

Once inside all pretense of normalcy and fake hostilely faded out of Regina and the toll of reality hit hard enough to make her knees weak. She slumped against her door and slid to the floor, pressing her palm against her heated forehead. She was making a huge mistake and she knew it because, oh gods, because she had just allowed that stupid, presumptuous blonde into her life. Her soul had recognized that stranger as its mate and now it was tugging at her body to go be joined with it but Regina just couldn't force her heart or her mind to except such a crazy notion. She was a talented witch, even if she hated the power she possessed, and she was beyond knowledged in all things magic. Cora had seen to that before Regina could even begin to form coherent words as a toddler. Regina knew what this meant. She knew the tugging of the soul, the hearts knowing one another, these raw feelings coursing through her. All of it meant one thing; True Love. Oh gods give her strength, True Love. She could handle a minuscule infatuation, a tiny crush, even heady lust because all of those things Regina knew she could escape from unscathed but not True Love. For if it was True Love, then Regina knew that she would fall so deeply in love with Emma that she would find herself readily agreeing to let Emma take Regina back to Leopold if it meant making Emma happy. And that was just something Regina wasn't willing to endure but True Love was endangering her now, for want or not, it was encroaching on her heart and she could feel the stirrings of it already. If she didn't get a grip on this instantly, she'd be back in that castle shivering in bed with her eyes closed, dreaming of home. Of this cottage and the soft sounds of water turning on a wheel outside.

The plan was simple, the plan was her only chance of surviving and not going back to that hell. The plan was to loathe everything Emma was and everything she stood for until the day she died because gods damn her and witches curse her, Regina would not allow herself to fall in love.

**Hey guys! Look! A new chapter just for you and in Regina's point of view! I hope you enjoyed it. I busted it out quick before culinary class but now I have to go or I'll be late! Later for now people of the internet! Practice safe clicking! Hate for your computers to catch something virus related because of your loose fingers on that mouse of yours! **

**. . . . . .And now that I've insulted you all with my terrible attempt at joking, I'll take my leave. G'day civilians! **


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Queen was saving face, Emma could tell, by the way she was acting aloof and being stoic but for the reason as to why, that Emma couldn't tell. The first impression of the woman Emma had gathered from their meeting at the apple tree was that this woman was a cold hearted bitch but, after that wore off; Emma began to see another woman entirely. A woman more like the one who wrote the journal Emma still had safely tucked away in her pack. There was a pain radiating off of the woman that was subtle, subtle enough Henry couldn't catch it, but Emma felt it resonating deep within her bones like the chill of a winter's coat of snow. Over top the pain, Regina wore a mask of indifference towards the two strangers that made her quiet while they ate and it made her politely apathetic to Henry when he said he wanted to look around. Emma couldn't understand why Regina was acting so different in comparison to how she had before and, even more so, Emma couldn't understand why it bothered her so. She was kind enough to Henry, thankfully, but when she was left alone with Emma she turned into a clam, closing off her gentle insides and leaving Emma with the hard shell. By doing that, she was saving face, but damn it, Emma didn't know why!

At the current moment, the two of them were side by side on a love seat in front of the fire, with as much space between them as the two cushions would allow. Henry had drifted to sleep on the floor near their feet long ago, after his full belly had made him too sluggish to look around the house any longer, and had promptly collapsed where he lay. The little guy was tuckered, his fox hat had come off in his sleep and Regina had kindly picked it up for him after she had draped a blanket over his curled up body. Emma watched from her seat the way Regina's face softened to that of a mother, her hand coming down atop Henry's hair to smooth out his hair, and then when Regina had noticed Emma looking, the queen had reclaimed her seat beside Emma in silence. Silence that had been dragging on now for the better part of an hour, both women opting to watch Henry's sleeping face and the fire burn in the hearth instead of engage one another. Occasionally Emma would feel the burn of Regina's eyes on her but, as hard as it was, Emma never turned to catch that russet gaze for fear of what she might find in those eyes. Something was between them and it was more than the air cushion they kept sitting on the loveseat. Neither of them wanted to broach it because they were both afraid of it, the only difference being that Emma didn't know what it was. Regina did.

Again when Emma felt Regina's eyes on her, she kept her own dead on Henry's peaceful face, using every ounce of her willpower to staunch the desire of meeting Regina halfway. Unlike before, when Regina would switch her gaze after a few short seconds, the burn remained until Emma had to cave and turned to meet Regina's expressionless stare.

"What?" Emma grumped, folding her arms across her chest, "Why are you just staring at me?"

"Is Henry your son Emma?"

Emma blinked rapidly, "What?"

"That little boy sleeping there, is he yours? Of your womb?"

"I understood the first time I just…." Emma shook her head with an amused hum vibrating in her chest, "No. The kid isn't mine, I found him in the forest. Or, he found me. Whatever."

"Oh." Regina breathed the word out like she was relieved to hear Emma's negative answer. The tension in her shoulders visibly slackened, her face smoothed out, the fingers clutching her dress unfurled. Her eyes that had been set on Henry became softer, gentler.

Emma furrowed her brows, "Why?" And like that, Regina was tense again, twofold than before. Fingers dug at her dress, shoulders hunkered low, eyes blazed, lips pursed. The posture reminded Emma of an angry kitten when it was being forced to take a bath. Unhappy and ready to strike at the first hand that came close to its mouth.

She shrugged noncommittally, "No reason. You seem the type to get married first before you bed a man and have his child." The Queen began picking at her perfect nails, trying to clean the impossibly clean but Emma saw right through it. Regina was jealous. Jealous over the prospect that Emma may or may not have had sex with a man. Strange but compelling. Emma could play this game too. With a raise of her honey brow, the blond closed the distance between them with a scoot to her left, effectively putting their thighs flush against one another. The only sign of emotion the Queen let show was the slight widening of her eyes towards their thighs and the small gulp of air she sucked in.

"I don't bed _men,_ Regina."

Widened eyes slowly rounded on Emma, looking all over her face for any detection of a lie, "What are you implying dear?"

Just as slowly, Emma leaned into Regina's space so that their lips were only millimeters apart. She could feel the unsteady breaths the Queen puffed out splashing across her lips, feel the insane warmth coursing her body from the brunette's close proximity. The Queen's eyes fell instantly to Emma's lips, a small whimper of need falling out of Regina in her disoriented state. It roused a sleeping beast in Emma that was instantly ravenous for the brunette.

"I think… your majesty… that you know exactly what I'm implying."

"Oh do I?" The corner of Regina's mouth tugged up into the sexiest smirk Emma had ever seen. Her insides quivered just being this close to see it.

"Yes. Perhaps you'd like it if I showed you, then you'd-"

Regina snapped her head away, and shoved Emma back with her palms slapping hard against Emma's shoulders. The physical sting hardly compared the sting of her pride, suffering a massive blow from the Queen's painful rejection. Hurt green eyes watched Regina rise from the love seat on shaky legs and move swiftly around Henry's sleeping body towards the window near the door.

"Where are you going Re-"

"Shhh!" Regina hissed, cutting Emma off. She pulled the drapes back to peer through the dew covered window into the night outside, "There is something out there. It's watching us."

"How do you know that?" Emma whispered, rising to a crouch to rouse Henry from his sleep. The boy hardly stirred outside of swatting at Emma's hand and rolling over. Typical kid.

Regina turned to give Emma a blank look before simply stating, "Magic dear", and going back to look out the window.

Emma rolled her eyes, mocking Regina in a much higher voice under her breath as she continued to prod at Henry's head until he opened his eyes. He was irritable, glaring up her in the most adorable way, and smacking his lips to rid it of the dryness caused by sleep. Half asleep, he buried his hand in his shaggy brown hair as he continued to smack hip lips until he froze, his eyes bugging. Franticly he began looking around for his fox hat until he saw where Regina had carefully placed it on the coffee table.

"What's going on?" He asked after he placed it back on his head, adjusting it to fit his skull. Emma noticed the kid needed a haircut, it was nearly to his shoulders until he slicked it back into his hat. No wonder he wore it all the time. Living in the forest led to a life of little givens like haircuts and soap. First change she got, she'd give him a good sheer like the sheep back home just how her Pop taught her.

"That thing is following us again." Emma used such a flippant tone, waving her hand in an uncaring gesture, not even noticing that Regina spun away from the window to pin a murderous glare on her. Henry noticed though, that's why he wisely backed away from Emma to hide near the low burning flames in the hearth.

"Excuse me, but are you keeping a secret from me Emma? There is something stalking you-something with magic in its blood ,mind you-that you haven't told me about?" Regina folded her arms in a do-not-fuck-with-me pose that had Emma swallowing her own salvia.

"Ah…magic?" Emma glanced at Henry, seeking some sort of back up, but the kid held up his hands and shook his head. He had wisely learned his lesson not to butt heads with the Queen, Emma however, hadn't.

"Emma, dear, just how long as this creature been following you?"

"Ah…" Emma thought back to the day she had been chased into the forest where she had stepped into Henry's rabbit trap and nearly been eaten, "Since I cracked into your journal-"

"My _what!?_" Regina was seething and damn it if Emma didn't find her absolutely mouthwatering when she was pissed. Her chest heaved, her cheeks were dusted with a furious shade of pink, her eyes swirled with an inky blackness and bits of purple. And that sneer. Sneers, as a general rule, weren't attractive but this Queen of Queens certainly made sneers a sexy sight. Emma found herself squatting onto the carpet so she could awkwardly press her legs closed.

The Queen stormed towards Emma and held out her hand, palm up, as one would if they expected it to be filled, "Give it to me. Now."

The farmers daughter didn't bother to reply with words, she was learning better judging by the look of murder in Regina's eyes, so she hurried to her pack. The contents were thrown out without care in a haste to get to the journal sitting at the bottom of the pack. The Dragon Heart Jar hit the rug with a thud, teetering onto its side, and rolling across the floor until it hit the tip of Regina's pointed dress shoes. A startled gasp loud enough to be a choked scream ripped from the Queen's throat, startling both her guests.

"Where….where did you get this Emma?" Regina slowly closed her fingers around the jar, not wincing at all from the uncomfortable heat Emma had experienced, and raised it into the air for her eyes to inspect. Emma didn't like seeing the fear that was writing all over the Queen's face.

Emma furrowed her brows, unsure of how that could possibly be important, "I bought it at market from-"

"Sirens. Filthy. Tricky. Lying. Sirens. Oh you really are an _idiot _dear. A blubbering, incoherent, idiot." Regina put a hand on her forehead, keeping her eye on the jar she held at a length. Emma looked just as confused as she felt.

"I don't understand what-"

An earth shaking roar pulsated through the house, knocking things off the walls and sending vibrations up through floor into Emma's boots. Regina paled at the sound, nearing dropping the jar entirely. Henry hurried away from the fire place to the nearest person, who happened to be Regina, and clung to her. Wrapping his arms around her hips and hiding his face underneath her protective arm that came to rest around his shoulders.

"What…was that?" But Emma didn't need to ask. She already knew it was the beast that had been following her. Following them.

"That, dear, is the dragon which you bought from the Siren. This dragon." Regina held up the jar, the faintest glimmer of the blue pulsating inside the jar, "And he'd really like his heart back. Enough that'd he'll kill you to get it. Rather, he'll kill you because you have it. You idiot, you bought your death warrant from that Siren. And now we need to leave. Because if we don't, that dragon will burn down my house with all of us inside of it."

Another louder roar sounded just outside, as if it was at the door asking to be let in. Emma gulped.

"Well….fuck."

**Sorry its short guys! I just wanted to give you an update to let you know I haven't forgot you! I'm just busy with school shit (some of you, I know can sympathize) and recently I started another story that demands a lot of my attention. Some of you are reading it. Thanks for your awesome support with both stories, this and that one. **


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Once there had been a manicured path here, nurtured by an aging man with a daughter that he adored. Once this path had been built of white gravel so that his daughter could easily identify it among the dirt of the forest. Once a girl had skipped along this path, happy and weightless of the worlds problems, from the start of the path near her cottage to the end where it conjoined with a much larger path.

Now it was being overrun with briars, thick around and sharp with thorns, growing high over the path like a malicious arch. White gravel was now coated in thick layers of dirt, masking it from eyes but not from the memories a girl had of its once flawlessness. Weaving between the briars was hardy sprouts of ivy, filling in the gaps between vines of briars, leaving no hope for moonlight to touch to the three fleeing bodies. Speed and silence were essential for a proper escape. One needed meld with the shadows and pray to a god of their choosing to pity them just enough to quiet their steps and speed their pace. This path, a path of a girls childhood, was being vicious to the beings trying desperately to hurry from the raging roars coming from the clamoring beast behind them. Roots curled around their boot tips just in time to trip them, thorns left bloody divots in their flesh after passing them by, gravel echoing through the silent night of forest. Everything was pressing in on them as their collaborating fear mounted with each long legged stride, desperation tainting their every breath.

Young Henry wasn't tall enough to keep up with the Queen running ahead of him, his little legs doing nothing but burdening her each time wayward vine caught his boot and tripped him. After another hard fall, gravel biting into his already tender, bloodied knees, he had vowed to just except that he couldn't keep up and didn't try to get up again. Cold from the forest floor beneath him permeated his overheated skin, soothing the fire burning in his every muscle and finally filling him with comfort after such a long time spent chasing a hope of escape. Yes, Queen Regina was simply to fast for him so he'd have to let her go but it would be okay because Emma would go with her and he'd stay here and enjoy this wonderful cold. But the cold was suddenly ripped from him when he was roughly swung into the air by a pair of strong arms and thrown over a hard shoulder, the tip of a kite shield digging into his ribcage from the awkward angle his body was in. Emma grunted from the extra weight but that was her only complaint, her grip strong around the boys hips to keep him on her shoulder as she ran to catch up with the shadow of the Queen up ahead. She was a regal whisper of an existence who could ride the wind in heels, somehow after such a long time spent living in a castle, this woman was a whisper. She ran in fine legs without pause, without even a glance back to check for her company following, heaving in crisp air and whimpering silently when thorn after thorn bit at her arms and face. Inside Emma, the part of her not being overrun by the extensive amount of fear coursing through her veins at the moment, was impressed at the beautiful display of stamina and athleticism, as impressive as a show hoarse proving itself for a critic. If they weren't all under threat of death if they were caught, then Emma would take her time to truly access the Queen in all her glory, especially from behind. As it was, there was a roaring and a series of snarls licking up the nape of her neck, leaving prickles of fear in its wake, to remind her why she couldn't do that just yet.

Each intake of air ripped through her lungs, stinging the spongy walls of her trachea all the way down until the cold curled around her bronchi and came out as burning puffs of fog into the black night. There was no time to dwell on just how bad the cold burned, or how the dryness of her lips was making the flesh crack, because all she could do was run. Run until finally she had caught the fleeting Queen and matched her stride, struggling and aching but never stopping and never letting go of Henry's body.

The Queen couldn't speak because every bit of oxygen she had was being used to fuel her overworked heart, her muscles, and her struggling lungs. She could still see, perceiving her surroundings for what they were, so that she knew she was leading herself and her party of two in the right direction and not astray. This was her path. The path her father had built her so that she could walk to the small schoolhouse within the city their cottage sat on the boarder of. Regina had walked this path twice a day, everyday, until Cora had made them rich through means of gold weaving, lies, and literal heart wrenching. She knew safely awaited them at the end of this road if they could reach it before death grabbed them in the form of a toothy maw. This road led to town, a small town built on the edge of a river, that would provide them with enough numbers and enough houses the dragon wouldn't, couldn't, find them. At least, that's what she hoped.

A child's scream filled the night air just before the sound of fire did. Bright color appeared everywhere around them like an explosion of blue sun, bathing the entire night with a flash of blue. Heat licked at her backside, singeing the ends of her silken hair and needled at her skin beneath the heavy layers of her dress and undergarments even as far away as she was from the dragon fire. Above and around her, water fizzled out of the briars leaving behind wilted husks of thorns and brown, wilted ivy just from the heat of the dragons fiery breath. Paths of fire remained, fueled by the many dry twigs, leaves, and other tree droppings littering the path. They had barely escaped the inferno the dragon had intended to swallow them in, by the power one legs stride. Emma wanted to check Henry over, frantic for the boys health, and afraid that the magic blue fire had burned him but she knew she had no time for that. She had to run for him and for her. When they reached safety, that was when she could fret. As it was, she was fairly certain she had been burnt if the slickness she felt running down the back of her thighs onto her calves and the brilliant pain accompanying it was anything to go by.

A new warmth circled her palm and this warmth was a pleasant reprieve from all the previous burning and heat. Regina's gripped Emma's hand hard and yanked with enough force Emma was sure the Queen had pulled her shoulder form its socket, leading the blonde through the maze of this path in the dark ahead where the blue fight light didn't touch. A sudden swoop in the path threw Emma off balance and, had it not been for Regina leading her, she would have stumbled over the slope down into the rushing creek below. Heavy breathing could be heard from the brunette Queen, along with a looped whisper of "_almost there, please, almost there." _

Lights signaled life up ahead, just a few paces ahead of them. Shabby wooden housing dotted the distance, boarding right on the edge of a cluttered river Emma couldn't quite see in the darkness. Boats of all sizes and shapes were docked in the harbor, some fairies, some war vestals from Leopold's armada, a few even looked like the olden pirate ships of old Belle had read Emma stories about. Later, like when she wasn't running for her life and being dragged along by a disheveled Queen, Emma would be sure to go look them over.

The sounds of chase stopped the moment Regina had pulled Emma into the town, forest floor changing to smooth, beaten dirt roads of a town. Just as the Queen had hoped, the dragon hadn't breached the city due to its large populous. A smart beast knew that two and a half humans were easy game but when humans grouped together, they had a potential to be dangerous. This didn't mean that the dragon would stop hunting them, not even in the slightest, this just bought them time to regroup was all.

Another hard yank brought Emma over the threshold of a tall building with wrap around railing on each terrace hanging off various window. The smell of animal and sweat permeated the stagnant air inside but Emma was to relieved to have finally stopped running to find it within herself to really care. Over the top of those vial smells was a faint scent of cooking meats and exotic spice, sending her stomach into a fit of roars that could outmatch the dragon. Regina threw her a rather nasty look for the sounds her body made but Emma noticed, she had yet to let go of her hand. The two just stood within the entryway of the teaming tavern, panting and shaking from exertion, with Henry still slumped over Emma's shoulder and their hands clasped tight. Shock seemed to leave them in this state for to long, allowing the sketchy crowd to scrutinize them, until one man in particular began leaning across his table to get a better look at the Queen. Emma snapped into action because Regina had become useless. She tensed up, her eyes wide with a juvenile fear in them of stranger that closely matched Henry's. Carefully, Emma set the boy back on his feet and shrugged off Red's cloak to drape it over Regina's bare shoulders that bad been ogled by a fellow behind them. With a flick of her wrist, she drew the hood over the Queen's head, hiding her entire face from view, and lead the veiled Queen towards the barkeep polishing classes behind the bar. Henry followed closely, sticking to her hip and even going as far as to dig his fingers into the strap holding her sword to her waist so that she wouldn't loose her in the crowd. Of course he would fear a crowd, this was the first time he had been in one. Likewise, Regina was terrified of crowds though not for the same reason as young Henry. Both of them clung to Emma like the tall, strong blonde was their lifeline.

"Hello," Emma spoke with purpose, her voice cold and sharp to get attention just like her Pops had taught her to do, "We need a room. I have gold to pay you with and I even have gold to pay you with if you can make our stay a quiet one. If you catch my meaning."

The Barkeep, a tall man with corded muscles rippling beneath his scar covered skin, sneered in Emma's direction, "We don't do that here, Girly. And definitely not for the likes of you."

Agitation flared when the mans words stung Emma's massive ego. She had been going through way to much shit lately to deal with this prick and his attitude. For one, she had just been chased through a fucking forest by a fucking dragon and she hasn't slept in-god how long has it been? She hadn't even been allotted any time to digest that fact, not to mention she was hungry and she always got extra cranky when she was hungry. So yeah, she was a little moody.

"Just what is that suppose to mean?" Her eyes narrowed at him but he seemed to take it in stride. He finished polishing the mug in his hand and set it down, draping the cloth atop it to place his palms flat on the counter. He leaned forward, his curly mustache twitching from the muscles beneath the hair constricting into a tight frown.

He jutted his chin towards Emma and Regina's clasped hands, "We don't house no criminals, no thugs, no renegades, and no lovers on the run. Looks like the two of you are more than one of those things. Scat won't cha? Your not welcome here."

"You can't do that!" Regina flung the hood away from her face to properly glare at the man, voice shrill with rage and lingering fear.

"I can and I will. My house, my rules. Now get out before I make you leave." He pointed towards the door. Emma glared hard at the man but still turned and began tugging both Henry and Regina behind her, sure to flick Regina's hood back up first, just in case. The trio stomped towards the door, minds whirling on everything that was happening to them within the span of a few short hours, and didn't bother to notice the man with a gleaming hook for a hand who was intently watching them as they left.

None of them were really in any kind of mindset to do anything other than wonder the streets until they found an empty stable that would accommodate them just fine. The adrenaline from before had wore off quickly and now they were just tired, from their near death and from not getting to sleep for the duration of the night. Henry scuttled to a corner of the small stable and dropped into a pile of hay, falling asleep instantly. Emma dug around in her pack for the scratchy blanket he had used once before while Regina rolled out Emma's only bedroll. A tiny hum of contentment slipped from Henry's lips when Emma tucked the blanket around him, sure to enclose his bare feet.

"Emma?" The blond hummed in response to Regina's quiet whisper, turning from Henry to see the brunette staring down at the bedroll with a mixture of distaste and distress.

"There is only one."

"Yeah. We'll have to share." Emma mumbled tiredly, already working on the fastenings of her boots to yank them away from her sore feet. She cringed when bolts of pain shot through her when bending over caused her trousers to chafe against the wounds on the back of her thighs.

"Share…a bed!?" The blonde could have swore that if Regina weren't so perfect at hiding how she truly felt about a situation, that she would have squeaked from the intimidation of sharing a bed instilled.

"Don't worry your majesty, I'm to tired to try anything. Maybe another night." She crawled on her hands and knees through the loose hay into the comforting embrace of her fur lined blankets, emitting a lovely sigh at the feel of the cool material caressing her mottled flesh. Tomorrow. She'd defiantly take a look at her burns or whatever tomorrow, right now she'd needed sleep.

Regina gaped, fingers twitching at her sides, "You can't be serious."

"C'mere Queeny. Come to bed."

"You presumptuous, insufferable brat! Don't call me 'Queeny' and do not think for a second I'm sharing that bed with you. Forfeit your comfort for the sake of mine, like a good peasant should for their queen, and give me the bedroll. You can go sleep with Henry." Regina made a point to walk towards the end of the bedroll and tug at the folded end until Emma came out of the blankets wrappings and was left lying in the hay. Now smiling, Regina tugged Red's cloak off her shoulders and let it flutter over Emma's body where she had careless cast it and crawled into the bedroll, turning her back to Emma and promptly falling asleep.

Emma wanted to fight Regina but found herself to tired so she just curled in on herself, thankful for the heat Red's cloak was giving her to stamp out the bitter cold of the night.

"Such a bitch, Queeny…" but Emma couldn't help that fact that she found Regina's bitchness to be an endearing trait.

**Sorry guys! Sorry! I haven't forgotten you! In hindsight, I shouldn't have taken up the challenge of writing two stories at once. I know this chapter is shite but its…holy fuck its 3 in the morning!? I'm almost late! Ha…whelp…lets blame it on that kay? Next chapter I'll make it up to you guys but for now, I have a middle-of-the-fucking-night-glow-in-the-dark paintball gun challenge/war to attend! And to win! **


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